Mr Bennet's Favours
by glassfacet
Summary: Thomas Bennet wins three favours from George Darcy playing chess. Twenty years later, he calls them in on the behalf of Elizabeth, Mary and Katherine to give them a better chance.
1. A Chess Match

Chapter One – A Chess Match

"Reading again, Bennett?" said George Darcy jovially to the man two years his junior.

"There is precious little else to do," said Thomas Bennett, marking his page and closing his book. "My classwork is done, and I have little interest in gaming and houses of ill repute."

"You mean you cannot afford them," said Darcy.

"Neither can the sons of earls and dukes," said Bennett. "Yet they fritter their allowances away on nothing, and are no more learned by the time they finish university than when they began it. It's a waste."

"I suppose I might agree with you," said Darcy. "Can I tempt you with chess, then?"

"So eager to lose, Darcy?" grinned Bennett. "You already owe me two favours. Are you sure you want to owe a third?"

"Who says I'll owe?" retorted Darcy. "Besides, I am waiting for you to call in your other favours."

"Will they expire?" asked Bennett.

"No. I will honour them always."

"Good man. We'll play for favours, then. A favour for a win."

The two men sat down across the chessboard from each other. Darcy, like always, played white. Bennett, like always, played black. Over the next several hours, they moved pieces carefully across the board.

Bennett moved one final piece. "I do believe that's checkmate."

Darcy laughed. "So it is. A favour to you then. That's three. What will you ask for?"

"I haven't the faintest notion," said Bennett. "It will come to me."

"I should turn in for the night," said Darcy, standing. "Good show, Bennett, and good night."

A few weeks later, George Darcy graduated from the university and made his quiet debut into London society. He fell in love with Lady Anne Fitzwilliam, and after a long courtship and a short engagement, they married in the celebration of the year. Bennett went to the ceremony but skipped the wedding breakfast so as not to have to socialize with any of the lady's single friends.

The two men maintained a correspondence, and it was through this correspondence that Darcy heard about Bennett's meeting with Miss Frances Gardiner nearly five years to the day he had met Lady Anne. The details of a courtship were disclosed, despite their differences in station, and after a short courtship and a short engagement, Bennett and Miss Gardiner were married. Darcy expressed his congratulations to his friend and his doubts to his wife.

Neither man forgot the favours owed, though neither ever brought them up in the infrequent letters between them. As both families increased, they wrote each other less and less. Lady Anne grew ill and died when her daughter was only two years old, and Darcy stopped writing unnecessary letters altogether. Bennett began to notice a change in his wife after she was told that there would be no more children, and regretted not truly knowing her when they married. With his children to protect from their mother, correspondence became the least of his concerns.


	2. Favours

Chapter Two - Favours

"Mr Bennet!" shrieked Frances Bennet at her husband. "Are you listening to me?"

"No," said Mr Bennet. "It does not follow that you need to repeat yourself, either. I shall not give you more money to spend."

"Yet I know you have ordered the carriage and written up a letter of credit," wheedled Mrs Bennet. "Why do such things if not to give your good daughters money?"

"I have indeed done these things," said Mr Bennet. "Today, Lizzie will take Mary and Kitty to the modiste to buy new gowns. You, madam, shall attend to your household tasks. I shall have no more of you foisting the accounts onto Lizzie because you cannot be bothered to do them yourself."

"Lizzie, Mary and Kitty to get new dresses!" cried Mrs Bennet. "Bless me, why? They are none of them going to get a husband, the way they are! So dull! Such bluestockings!"

"All of our daughters must marry eventually," said Mr Bennet. "I see no reason to promote Lydia at all. She is only six. And as for Jane, she is sixteen, and I will not hear of her marrying before she is twenty. No, my dear, you shall not persuade me otherwise. And Lizzie has grown nearly half a foot since she last had a new dress. You do your daughters wrong, Mrs Bennet."

"Papa!" protested Jane.

"You have no respect for my nerves!" huffed Mrs Bennet. "Well, Jane, my dear, do not fret. We shall still go for a walk at the fashionable hour, that you might be seen. And my dearest Lydia too!"

"Papa, may I be excused?" asked Lizzie, a pretty girl with dark brown hair and sparkling dark eyes. "I should like to get ready to go out."

"May I as well, Papa?" asked Mary. She too had dark hair and dark eyes, though hers were not as lively as her elder sister's.

"Of course you may," said Mr Bennet fondly to the girls. "And you too, Kitty. You still have lessons this afternoon, and I do not think you would like to miss such a lovely day to sketch."

"I shouldn't," agreed Kitty, her light brown curls bouncing as she hopped off her chair – at eight, it was still too tall for her – and followed fourteen year old Elizabeth and eleven year old Mary out of the breakfast room. Mr Bennett resumed reading his newspaper as his wife fussed over her blonde darlings, blue eyed Jane and brown eyed Lydia.

"Mama, I want a new dress," announced Lydia petulantly.

"And so you should have one," pronounced her mother. "But your papa is being stingy with us."

"Not stingy, sensible," said Mr Bennet. This was why he detested their visits to London, as it meant increased arguments with his wife. "Lydia has more dresses than most debutantes. You spoil her, Mrs Bennet, and nothing good will come of it."

At that moment, the footman came to the door and informed Mr Bennet that the carriage was ready and waiting. Mr Bennet harrumphed and told the footman to wait for him to be ready. He stood and left the room before his wife could protest his going out. He dressed with the help of his valet, and then went to his study and locked the door to the safe and then to the room itself. Once he was done, he went back down the stairs to the entranceway, where his three girls were waiting.

"Are you coming with us, Papa?" asked Elizabeth.

"I shall take you to the modiste," said Mr Bennet, "and I shall collect you three hours after. Be gentle with my purse, please."

"Yes Papa," chorused the girls.

"May I have a pink dress this time Lizzie?" asked Kitty.

"Only if you pick a fabric we can afford," said Lizzie. "There will be a time for silks and satins, but now is not it. When you are older than Jane, you can wear such things."

"Please choose for me, Lizzie," said Mary. "I do not want Mama to laugh at me more than she does because of my glasses."

"Papa," said Lizzie, "may we have three dresses each?"

"I see no reason why you shouldn't," said Mr Bennet. "Hurry along to the carriage, before your mother decides to come as well."

Lizzie, Mary and Kitty hurried out into the carriage with their father behind them. Lizzie asked her sisters questions about the kinds of clothes they wanted. Mary wanted something modest and simple, with little ornamentation. Kitty wanted something with a little lace and ribbon to it, not too much, but enough to catch the eye. Lizzie herself wanted something comfortable to walk and dance in, but that would also look well on her changing frame. Mary asked if Lizzie would consider ensuring that it was pretty enough to hand down to Mary when the time came. Mr Bennett realized that soon, Lizzie would need stays and not just her chemise. He pulled a notebook out of his pocket and scribbled a quick note to the dressmaker. He handed it to Lizzie, nodding at her to read it. She did so, blushed, and tucked it into her reticule.

"Thank you, Papa," said Lizzie.

"You are growing up," said Mr Bennet. "The least I can do is ensure that you are properly attired for your age."

They arrived at the shop and the three girls and their father went in. The dressmaker hurried forward, knowing that the Bennets were good customers. Her face fell a little when she saw that Mrs Bennet was not with them. Lizzie stepped forward.

"Good morning, Madam, we have an appointment," she said.

"Indeed you do," said Madame Julie. "Come, choose your fabrics, girls. Are you to stay, Mr Bennet?"

"No," said Mr Bennet. "I shall return in three hours for them. Lizzie, make sure to give her that note."

"Yes Papa," said Lizzie, crimsoning again. She handed over the folded piece of paper as her father left the shop. Madame read it and looked at her sympathetically.

"Come, my dear, we shall choose fabrics for this first," said Madame. "Let your sisters pick their fabrics and patterns. You are growing into a woman."

Mr Bennet decided to spend the next few hours at his club. He had just sat down with a book and a brandy – little Lizzie, almost a woman! – when another pair of gentlemen entered the room. Mr Bennet would have happily ignored them, but they were both men he knew well.

"Lord Matlock, Darcy, good morning," greeted Mr Bennet. "What disaster brings you here so early?"

"Hiding from your wife, Bennet?" asked Mr Darcy, settling beside his friend. James Fitzwilliam sat on his other side.

"No, merely thinking on how quickly girls grow up," said Mr Bennet. "How are your children?"

"What are we, old wives?" laughed Matlock. "My eldest boy has no sense of responsibility, and my other son has too much. But you are right, my three girls have grown up too fast. The youngest just went into seminary."

"My Georgiana is a sweet little girl still," said Mr Darcy. "Only seven, though. Fitzwilliam – my son – is a quiet young man, at Cambridge. He's hiding something from me, I'll bet."

"And your godson is not?" said Mr Bennet archly.

"I know what he is," said Mr Darcy. "And I cut him off this year. Perhaps that will teach him some restraint."

"Or to win at cards," said Matlock. "How about your children?"

"Five girls," sighed Mr Bennet. "The eldest sixteen, the youngest six. In order, the pretty one, the witty one, the steady one, the dreamy one and the spoiled one. My middle three are shopping for new clothes. It has come to my attention that Lizzie is growing up. And so I drink in despair of one day losing her to a man who won't appreciate her cleverness."

"Lizzie's the witty one, then," said Matlock. "What about the other two who are shopping?"

"Mary is steady, with a religious bent," said Mr Bennet. "Still, she can run a household by account book. Kitty can draw a near perfect likeness of something she's only seen once. All three play pianoforte, speak four languages, and know their mathematics. Yet I cannot prepare them for society, and their mother refuses to."

"Pity," said Matlock. "They sound like interesting girls. Chess?"

Mr Bennet sat upright. "Darcy, are those favours still good? The ones I won from you?"

"You know they are," said Mr Darcy.

"I'm calling them in," said Bennet. "And here is my request: sponsor Elizabeth, Mary and Katherine through school to their debut. Including debutante balls. I don't care if the seminaries aren't first rate or the guests at the balls aren't very rich. Help me help my girls find good men to marry and love."

"For three favours?" said Darcy, thinking it over. "Done. What languages do the girls speak?"

"Latin, Greek, French and German," said Mr Bennet.

"Latin and Greek!" cried Matlock. "They'll be better educated than half the men of the Ton!"

"Good," said Mr Bennet. "Jane and Lydia can choose from that half. They are in no danger of being cleverer than their husbands."

"I should like to meet your girls," said Darcy, standing. "It must be about time to collect them."

"Just about," said Mr Bennet, looking at his pocketwatch. "Come, Darcy, the girls are likely waiting for me by now."

Matlock waved them away and took up Mr Bennet's book. Darcy followed Mr Bennet out of the club to his carriage. A good ten minutes later, they arrived at the modiste and the two men were greeted by Lizzie, Mary and Kitty. The girls curtsied as Mr Bennet introduced them to Darcy. Darcy watched as Lizzie handed her father the receipt for their purchases. He listened as his friend praised the girls for their frugality and sense in dress. At long last, he spoke.

"I'll do it, Bennet," said Darcy. "Miss Lizzie, would you like to go to school?"

"I should very much like to improve my mind and my skill at the pianoforte," said Lizzie thoughtfully, "so I suppose I should like to go to school."

"Miss Mary?" asked Darcy.

"I should like to improve upon the few accomplishments I have," said Mary, "and perhaps read more on philosophy."

"And Miss Kitty?"

"I should like to draw and dance and manage a household well," said Kitty. "I should also like to make friends my own age. It is difficult, only having one's sisters."

"Then it is settled," said Darcy. "I know of a small school that teaches girls unorthodox subjects along with the usual set of classes. What say you, Bennett?"

"That will do well for my girls," said Mr Bennet. "Thank you, Darcy."

"It's a good favour," Darcy assured him. "May I make a request, Miss Kitty?"

"Of course, sir," said Kitty.

"I have a young daughter, a year younger than you, who needs a friend," said Darcy. "Would you mind beginning a correspondence with her?"

"I should like that very much!" said Kitty. "What is her name?"

"Georgiana," said Darcy. "Please send the first note to Darcy House, and I shall give it to her."

"Thank you, sir," said Kitty. She curtsied again.

"I shall send you the particulars, Bennet," said Darcy. He tipped his hat and returned to his carriage. Mr Bennet ushered his girls into their carriage and began explaining what was to happen to them over the next few years.


	3. Lizzie Goes to School

Chapter Three – Lizzie Goes to School

A few weeks later, Lizzie was in her room at Longbourn folding and packing her clothes while Mary helped and Kitty embroidered one last handkerchief on the bed. Through the closed door, they could hear their enraged mother squawking at their father, whose voice was a deep rumble under the shrieks. A knock came at the door just as the last of Elizabeth's dresses went into her trunk.

"Come in," called Lizzie. The door opened and in walked Jane.

"I see you are all packed," said Jane, frowning slightly. "I had hoped to be of some assistance there."

"As you can see, we have been at work since tea," said Lizzie. "Though I must thank you for your offer of help."

"I still do not understand why you are going to school, but I am not," said Jane.

"It was Papa's decision to make," said Lizzie, "and he made it. I am sure that Mama will continue to supervise your education, just as she has done for the last sixteen years."

"I should have liked to go to school," said Jane. "But then, Papa has always favoured you, Lizzie."

"And next year, Mary will join me," said Lizzie. "Perhaps you are too old to start school, Jane. I will write to you, if you'd like."

"I would like that," said Jane. She turned and left the room. Kitty and Mary exchanged looks.

"I think she is jealous," said Kitty.

"Jealous or not," said Lizzie, "Papa is the head of this family. It is his to make decisions, and for us to live with them. How is your correspondence with Miss Darcy going, Kitty?"

"It is going well, I think," said Kitty. "I should like to meet her in person one day, though. It will make writing to her so much easier."

"Lizzie," said Mary, sitting on the bed, "you know as well as I do that Papa isn't well. What are we to do if he dies?"

"The best we can," said Lizzie. "We must trust that Papa has made plans for us in case he passes before we are married. And with our educations, if necessary, we can become teachers or governesses and support ourselves."

"I suppose so," agreed Mary. "I should – I should like to have a husband. One who does not mind that I am not as pretty as you or Jane."

"Oh, Mary," said Lizzie, throwing her arms around her sister. "Of course we shall find you a man like that! I would not settle for less than a man who admires you for your intelligence and your good nature. Those last, as beauty does not."

"It is a good thing then that we are more than simply pretty," said Kitty. "Still, it would be nice to be considered the most beautiful of women by my husband."

"It would," agreed Lizzie. She sighed. "I fear that of the three of us, I am the one who may not find a husband. I am too wild, too sure of myself for many men, I fear."

"I am sure that you will meet someone who will like your liveliness," Mary assured her. "After all, you naturally have many social graces that will endear you to others."

"We will all find husbands in time," said Kitty. "I am sure of it."

"Only if we help one another," said Lizzie. "Mama will be so busy promoting Jane and Lydia that she will forget to help us. I am sure of that."

There was a knock on the door and it opened to reveal Mrs Hill. "It is time for you girls to go to bed. Miss Lizzie has a big journey ahead of her."

"Yes, Mrs Hill," said Lizzie.

"May we stay with you tonight, Lizzie?" asked Kitty. "I know I shall miss you when you leave."

"Of course," said Lizzie. "I'm sure that we can all fit into my bed."

The three girls climbed into the bed with Lizzie in the middle. Mary blew out the light, and Kitty cuddled closer to her older sister. Rather than stay up late talking, the girls fell asleep quickly, holding hands.

The following morning, the entire Bennett family was awake early to see Lizzie off. Mary and Kitty cried as Lizzie was handed into the carriage by their father, while Mrs Bennett held the hands of Lydia and Jane and muttered about favouritism. Mr Bennett pecked her cheek.

"Now, my dear, you would be sorry if our carriage overturned," joked Mr Bennett.

"Do not presume that I would," sniffed Mrs Bennett. "I should miss Longbourne and the security of a home for my girls."

Jane flushed. Mary and Kitty pretended that they did not hear. Lydia kicked at the ground, bored and wanting to go inside and play with her dolls.

"As you say, Mrs Bennett," said Mr Bennett. He patted Lydia on the head, pressed kisses to his two middle daughters' foreheads and climbed into the carriage. Lizzie waved to her mother and sisters as the carriage pulled away from the door and down the drive.

"Lizzie, I know that this first year will be a difficult one for you," said Mr Bennett. "Other girls may look down on you for not being as wealthy or as well read as they. You must be brave, my Lizzie, braver than you have ever been. Work hard and do yourself proud."

"Yes Papa," said Lizzie.

"Then you will be well," said Mr Bennett. He settled back against the cushions of the carriage and looked at his daughter carefully. She had a determined look in her eyes, though her fingers reflexively crumpled and smoothed her skirt. It would amuse him, had this not been the most important day in her life so far, and Mr Bennett knew that Lizzie had good reason to be nervous. Still, school would prepare her for society, and that was the purpose of sending her. Even if it meant giving up evenings of chess.

They arrived at Gracechurch Street just before luncheon, and ate with the Gardiners. The oldest of the Gardiner children was still in the nursery, and Mrs Gardiner felt that though Lizzie was not out in society, she was old enough to join the adults at the table rather than have to eat in the nursery with her baby cousin. Mr Gardiner and Mr Bennett agreed with Mrs Gardiner, and the four of them had a lively discussion about books and travelling over their meal.

After lunch, Mr Bennett and Lizzie said their goodbyes and returned to the carriage. As they approached the school, Lizzie grew paler and paler, and Mr Bennett finally reached across the carriage and squeezed her hand.

"You will make friends," said Mr Bennett. "It is not in your disposition to be friendless. You will do well in your classes, as you have a good mind and an interest in learning. You will be alright."

"I know, Papa," said Lizzie, smiling ruefully. "It is just that I am used to being a high ranked girl, and at school I know that I shall not. I am afraid that the other girls will pick on me for my newness and my social standing."

"And yet, your courage rises," said Mr Bennett.

"And yet my courage rises," agreed Lizzie. "I shall be Miss Elizabeth at the school, shall I not? It will be the first step of becoming a young lady and not a child."

"I believe that is so," said Mr Bennett. "However, you shall always be Lizzie to me."

The carriage drew up in front of the school. Mr Bennett stepped out and handed Lizzie down. The building was tall grey stone, with columns flanking the door and perfectly symmetrical sets of windows across its face. Lizzie took her father's arm and they walked up the steps to the door. They knocked, and a maid opened the door.

"Mr and Miss Bennett to see Mrs Longevin," said Mr Bennett.

"I'll sit you in the parlour and tell her you're here," said the maid. She led them to a small parlour at the front of the building, curtsied and left them there, shutting the door behind her. Lizzie sat down on the small sofa and Mr Bennett sat in an armchair to her left. After a few minutes, the door opened and a woman came in.

The woman was short and thin, with a long nose and tiny eyes that nonetheless seemed to see everything. Her old-fashioned dress was dark green, and her greying hair was up in a knot at the top of her head. She curtsied.

"I am Mrs Longevin," she announced. Mr Bennett, having stood when she entered, bowed. Lizzie curtsied.

"I am Thomas Bennett," said Mr Bennett, "and this is my daughter Elizabeth."

"Ah, yes," said Mrs Longevin. "Mr Darcy wrote to me about you. You are on time for your appointment today."

"Were you expecting us not to be?" asked Mr Bennett.

"One never knows when one is taking on a new pupil what sort of family she'll come from," said Mrs Longevin. "I am pleased that you are punctual. Shall we sit and discuss Miss Elizabeth's education to this point?"

"Of course," said Mr Bennett. "I would prefer if you directed your questions to Elizabeth, as there are some parts of her education that I cannot account for."

"Naturally," said Mrs Longevin. "Miss Elizabeth, can you read and write?"

"I can," said Lizzie, "and in several languages."

"Good," said Mrs Longevin. "You don't know how many girls come to school without that basic knowledge. Do you read?"

"Voraciously."

"Do you draw?"

"Poorly. I have little talent or formal instruction in drawing."

"Do you play?"

"Yes, the pianoforte."

"Can you sew?"

"I am accustomed to mending clothes more than embroidery."

"What languages do you know?"

"English, French, German, Latin and Greek."

"A scholar! Can you do maths?"

"Yes. I know how to do an account book as well."

"What do you hope to get out of my school?" asked Mrs Longevin.

"I hope to become more proficient in my accomplishments," said Lizzie, "and I hope to improve my social skills and graces. I would also like to learn Italian and how to properly manage a household."

"Very good," said Mrs Longevin. "You are in the right place for those things. It is my goal to ensure that well-educated, well-rounded young ladies emerge from my school. Your hopes are in line with my goals, and I think that you will do wonderfully at this school." She stood. "Come with me, Miss Elizabeth, and we shall get you settled in to your new room and give you a quick tour before dinner."

"I believe that this is the part where I leave you, Lizzie," said Mr Bennett. He kissed her forehead. "Courage, and do your best."

"Yes Papa," said Lizzie. "I promise to write."

"And I shall try to write back," promised Mr Bennett. "Good afternoon, Mrs Longevin."

"Good afternoon, Mr Bennett," said Mrs Longevin, curtsying. Mr Bennett showed himself out. Lizzie bit her lip and then stuck out her chin. Mrs Longevin eyed her critically.

"You aren't going to cry," said Mrs Longevin. "Good. Ladies do not cry in public."

"My youngest sister cries all the time to get her way," said Lizzie. "I do not want to be a six year old."

"How many sisters do you have?" asked Mrs Longevin.

"I am the second of five girls," said Lizzie. "Two of my younger sisters are to come here as well, when they are old enough."

"And the other two sisters?" asked Mrs Longevin.

"Mama will educate them as she sees fit," said Lizzie. "I do not question why my parents make the choices they do."

"Hm," said Mrs Longevin as they climbed up the stairs. Lizzie followed her down a hall near the top of the school and to a door at the end of the hall. Mrs Longevin opened the door. "Here is your room. You will be sharing with Amelia Campbell, the Earl of Bredalbane's great-niece. She just arrived here herself. Freshen up. I will wait here while you do."

Lizzie opened her trunk to find that her dresses had already all been hung up. She opened her closet and selected a comfortable dress and draped it over the screen. She stepped behind the screen and relieved herself before undressing and pulling on her clean dress. Stepping out from behind the curtain with the travel dress in her arms, she looked at Mrs Longevin.

"Where am I to put the dirty dress?" asked Lizzie.

"There is a hamper behind the screen for your dirty clothes," said Mrs Longevin. "Put it there, and then we may begin the tour."

Lizzie stepped behind the screen and found the wicker basket that Mrs Longevin had told her of. She dropped the dress into the basket and then took a deep breath. Squaring her shoulders and lifting her head, Lizzie stepped out again and followed Mrs Longevin out of the room and into her life as Miss Elizabeth.


	4. Mary and Kitty Travel

Chapter Four – Mary and Kitty Travel

"Hm, post's arrived," said Mr Bennet, looking over the stack of envelopes. "Two for you, Kitty, one for Mary. One for Jane from that ridiculous poet you haven't managed to shake yet – I shall read it before you, for propriety's sake."

"Who have Mary and Kitty heard from?" asked Jane.

"Mine is from Lizzie," said Mary. She tucked the letter into her pocket.

"Mine are from Lizzie and Miss Darcy," said Kitty. She opened the letter from Miss Darcy and read through it. After a few minutes, she looked up at her father. "Papa?"

"Yes, Kitty?" said Mr Bennet.

"Miss Darcy has invited me to stay with her for six weeks," said Kitty. "A week in London, then four weeks in Kent with her aunt, and then another week in London. May I go?"

"Oh, is that what Darcy is writing to me about?" said Mr Bennet, pulling out his corresponding letter. "Hm, that seems to be in order. You'll have the benefit of Miss Darcy's governess while you are with them; make sure you behave."

"Yes, Papa," said Kitty. She brightened. "So I may go?"

"Yes, I think so," said Mr Bennet. "I see no reason you should not. You haven't caused trouble since Lizzie left at the end of August. You have earned this treat."

"Thank you, Papa," said Kitty.

"I don't see why my Lydia shouldn't go with her," protested Mrs Bennet.

"Lydia has not been invited," said Mr Bennet. "Furthermore, her behaviour is appalling, madam. She may be young, but I still expect some decorum from all my daughters."

"I don't want to meet stuffy Miss Darcy anyway," sulked Lydia.

"Good," said Mr Bennet. "Your Uncle Gardiner has also sent us a letter. As I glance over it, I see an invitation for Mary to go and visit with them. Would you like to go, Mary?"

"Yes, Papa," said Mary. "I should like very much to see Aunt and Uncle Gardiner again."

"But you saw them at Christmas!" said Mrs Bennet. "Really, Mr Bennett, can Jane not go in her stead? Mary is so dull."

"Mrs Bennet, do not disparage your daughters," snapped Mr Bennet. "It is unbecoming and unladylike. As it stands, the invitation is for Mary. Mary, write back to your Uncle accepting his kind invitation and see if you can go at the same time as Kitty. That way, you might travel to London together, and travel back together."

"I should like that very much, Papa," said Mary. "Thank you for letting me go."

"Papa, might I please have my letter?" asked Jane.

"When I have read it," said Mr Bennet. "Ah, this house shall be quiet for Easter this year. My great-uncle has written to me as well. It would seem that he is offering to host a coming out ball for Jane in the small season this year. Would you like that, Jane?"

"Of course she would," trilled Mrs Bennet. Her husband glared at her.

"Yes, Papa, I should like that very much," said Jane.

"Good," said Mr Bennet. "Then I shall let you read this letter that you might know the particulars and you might write back to him to accept his kind offer."

"Thank you, Papa," said Jane.

"Well then," said Mr Bennet. "Mary and Kitty will be gone for six weeks over Easter, Lizzie won't be home until June or so, and Jane will be taking up residence at Lord Henry Bennett's Town house – I forget the name – come September, at which time, Lizzie and Mary return to school. What a busy year!"

"Papa, may Kitty and I be excused?" asked Mary. "I should like to get my letter written to Aunt and Uncle Gardiner this morning."

"Of course," said Mr Bennet. "Off you go. Jane, you are excused to see to your correspondence as well. Here is your letter from that young man."

"Thank you, Papa," said Jane. She tucked her letter into her pocket and hurried out of the breakfast room and up the stairs. Mary and Kitty also stood, kissed their father's cheek, and went up to their rooms to write their letters

At the end of March, Kitty and Mary packed their trunks with their best and favourite dresses. They wrote letters to Lizzie about their impending adventures and posted them. The night before they were to go to London, they slept in Mary's bed so as to not miss one another too much while they were gone.

The following morning, the Gardiner's carriage pulled up and Mr Gardiner stepped out to greet his sister and nieces. Jane, Mary and Kitty all curtsied and Mrs Bennet immediately began complaining that her Jane was being done wrong in not getting to travel. Mr Gardiner listened for a few minutes and then interrupted his sister.

"My dear, we pay so much attention to Jane and Lydia at Christmas every year, that Madeline and I feel we quite neglect Mary," said Mr Gardiner. "We should like to get to know our middle niece before she goes off to school."

"Yes, well," said Mrs Bennet, obviously flustered. "I still do not see why you don't take Jane too."

"There is only room for one of the girls," said Mr Gardiner. "Madeline's mother has come to visit as well, to see the new baby."

"Oh, of course," said Mrs Bennet. She fluttered her hands anxiously.

"Mary, Kitty, are you ready to go?" asked Mr Gardiner.

"Yes Uncle," said Mary. "Goodbye Mama. Goodbye Papa. Goodbye Jane. Goodbye Lydia."

"Goodbye everyone!" said Kitty happily. "I do promise to write when I can."

"Safe travels, girls," said Mr Bennet. "I expect to read tales of your great adventures out in the world."

"We'll write," promised Mary.

The girls climbed into the carriage as their trunks were loaded onto the back. Mrs Bennett continued to despair over Jane not going anywhere, until Jane took it upon herself to soothe her mother with reminders of the upcoming ball to be held in her honour, and her upcoming seventeenth birthday. Mr Bennet shook Mr Gardiner's hand and waved to Mary and Kitty. And then they were off in a cloud of dust, with Longbourn fading into the distance behind them.

"It's so very exciting to travel," said Kitty. "I think I shall like it very much."

"Lizzie says that when one makes up their mind to like something, one shall," said Mary. "Shall we practice our French for a bit? We have not done so in a while."

"Yes, that will pass the time nicely," said Kitty. "Que-ce que vous pensez comme les champs, Marie?"

Mary replied, and, satisfied that his nieces could entertain themselves for a while, Mr Gardiner drifted off to sleep. He was woken hours later by the girls singing in German. While the tune was lively and their voices pretty, German was a language he was not accustomed to hearing. Relieved that it was just Mary and Kitty, he went back to sleep and woke again as they were entering London.

They arrived at Darcy House, and as their carriage pulled up, the door opened and a pair of footmen came out. Mr Gardiner handed Mary and Kitty down, and the footmen lifted down Kitty's trunk and carried it inside. Mr Gardiner and the girls were shown into the parlour, where Mr Darcy and a young girl were waiting.

"Mr Gardiner, welcome," said Mr Darcy. "It is a pleasure to meet you."

"Thank you for your kind invitation to my niece, Katherine," said Mr Gardiner. "May I introduce my nieces? The elder one is Mary, and the younger one is Katherine." The girls curtsied.

"I go by Kitty, though," said Kitty quickly. She flushed at her own forwardness.

"This is my daughter, Georgiana," said Mr Darcy. Georgiana curtsied.

"I'm so pleased to meet you at last," said Georgiana happily. "I am sure that we will be the best of friends, now that I have met you properly. Thank you so much for coming, Miss Kitty!"

"I'm very pleased to be here," said Kitty. "I've been so wanting to meet you, and now I have. I should very much like to be the best of friends."

"Mary and I should be going," said Mr Gardiner. "My wife will likely be concerned for us."

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Mary," said Georgiana.

"And you, Miss Darcy," said Mary. "I should also like to thank you, Mr Darcy, for sending my sisters and I to school. I hope we do you, and ourselves, credit."

"You're very welcome, Miss Mary," said Mr Darcy. "I will admit to considering breaking with tradition and sending Georgiana to that school. It seems to be doing Miss Elizabeth much good."

"It is, sir," said Mary. She curtsied again and looked at her uncle. Mr Gardiner bowed and he and Mary left the townhouse to return to Gracechurch Street.

"Let me show you to your room," said Georgiana, holding out a hand to Kitty. "It's right next to mine. You can freshen up and then we can have luncheon together. I do have lessons this afternoon, though."

"May I join you?" asked Kitty. "I do not want to get behind on my lessons either."

"I should like that very much," said Georgiana. She led Kitty up the stairs and down a hallway to a room that was papered in light pink, with pink woven carpets on the floor. Kitty smiled and looked around the room.

"You have a lovely home, Miss Georgiana," said Kitty.

"Thank you," said Georgiana. "Please call me Georgiana. I know it is a long name, but not a terrible one, I think."

"Then you must call me Kitty," said Kitty. "I am not old enough to properly carry Katherine yet. But I will be, when I am Lizzie's age."

"Lizzie just turned fifteen, didn't she?" said Georgiana.

"Oh yes," said Kitty. "She's at school, and liking it very much. She asks about you often."

"What sorts of things does she ask?" inquired Georgiana nervously.

"Lizzie asks about your piano, and about your health, and if your family is well," said Kitty. "I think she should like to know you as well, but is too polite to ask for a correspondence. I also think she fears that you may think her too old to want to hear from you."

"How wonderful to have such an older sister," sighed Georgiana. "I should like one, and I expect that I will have a sister one day. I just hope that she is good and kind."

"And I hope for four good, loving brothers," said Kitty. "My sisters deserve no less."

Kitty unpinned her hair and brushed it out. Georgiana watched in fascination as Kitty braided her hair and pinned it into a bun. She then pulled a gown out of her trunk, shook it a few times and laid it on the bed.

"Georgiana, would you mind helping me?" asked Kitty. "I'm afraid that this dress is buttoned down the back and I cannot reach all of the buttons."

"Shall I ring for a maid?" asked Georgiana, moving to the bell pull. Immediately, Kitty crimsoned, recognizing the difference between her house and Georgiana's.

"It is your home, and I shall live as you do while you are here," said Kitty, trying not to be too embarrassed. Georgiana pulled the cord and then sat at the vanity.

"Do you not have a maid?" asked Georgiana.

"We do," Kitty assured her. "However, Mama has instructed her to see to Jane and Lydia before the rest of us, though Lydia is the youngest. Lizzie, Mary and I find it easier and quicker to help each other dress rather than wait all morning for Daisy to be free to help us."

"That seems rather odd," said Georgiana. "What about your governess?"

"We do not have one," said Kitty. "Papa assigns us readings and projects and we complete them. He tests us on them randomly, so it is a matter of knowing things and not memorizing and forgetting. Of course, I forget things easily, but Lizzie and Mary help me to learn."

"I wish my papa would spend such time on me," sighed Georgiana.

"Your papa is a very busy man," said Kitty. "Lizzie tells me that he is very important in society. I am sure that he does his best to look after you."

"He does," said Georgiana, "and Fitzwilliam too, though we are not so close as you and your sisters are."

The maid knocked and entered. Kitty changed the conversation to something more general while the maid helped her to change into a fresh dress without disturbing her hair. Georgiana watched in fascination as Kitty sought the maid's opinion on her hair; was it appropriate for her age, or was it too grown up? The maid assured her that it was just right. She curtsied to the girls as she left the room.

"Why ask the maid for advice?" asked Georgiana.

"Maids pay attention to fashion too, and are often better versed with hair than we are because they never know when they might be called on to do a guest's hair," said Kitty. "Besides, it's not proper to ignore servants, or they don't develop a connection with the family and then they spill secrets. And people like to feel appreciated."

"Oh, I didn't realize," said Georgiana. "I shall have to try that in the future."

Georgiana led the way to the schoolroom, where the governess, Mrs Dowell, quickly quizzed Kitty on what she knew and then set her to more advanced mathematics, while she taught Georgiana how to use fractions. Georgiana watched enviously as her friend worked through problem after problem with fractions while she struggled with the concept. Eventually Mrs Dowell asked Kitty how she learned, and Kitty showed them the pieces of paper she had used to represent different fractions. Having something to look at helped Georgiana immensely, and soon she was confidently solving problems as well.

Thus began their six happy weeks together.


	5. Lady Catherine's Cradle

Chapter Five – Lady Catherine's Cradle

The carriage rattled up the drive, and Mr Darcy closed the book he had been reading aloud to Kitty and Georgiana on the trip from London to Kent. The impressive face of Rosings Park reared out of the carefully cultivated formal gardens and Mr Darcy sighed in unison with his daughter. Kitty stared out the window at the grand house as their carriage pulled up in front of it.

"It is a rather imposing sort of house, isn't it?" said Kitty.

"The mistress of the house would like you to think so," said Mr Darcy. "Certainly, she would like to be considered rather imposing. Do not let her frighten you, Miss Kitty."

"I shall try," said Kitty doubtfully, "but I am not as brave as Lizzie nor as adept at blending into the background as Mary."

"You have your own sort of courage," Georgiana assured her. "Papa, will Aunt Catherine be horrible to us?"

"I suspect that you are not old enough for her to pay too much attention to just yet," said Mr Darcy. "At any rate, I shall try to protect you, and so shall your governess."

Mr Darcy handed the girls out of the carriage once it was stopped and led them up the steps into the imposing house with Mrs Dowell trailing behind from the second carriage where she had ridden with Mr Darcy's valet. Servants emerged from Rosings to greet them and collect their luggage. Kitty gulped and gripped Georgiana's hand as they entered the ornate entrance hall. Georgiana squeezed her hand. Mr Darcy took a deep breath and walked down the hall to a room where a woman's loud voice was emanating from.

"Hello, Catherine," said Mr Darcy once he and the girls and Mrs Dowell were ushered inside the room. "Rosings seems to be as it always has been."

"That's Lady Catherine, Darcy," snapped an imposing older woman in a fussy gown. She was seated on a large chair and held a walking cane in her right hand. To her right was a pale little girl in an overly elaborate dress and an older woman in black.

"Oh, silly me," said Mr Darcy scornfully. "Lady Catherine. Won't you come and greet your brother-in-law? Never mind your niece."

"And what about your niece?" snapped back Lady Catherine. "Won't you greet Anne?"

"Of course I will," said Mr Darcy. "I'm not unkind, Lady Catherine. Hello, Miss Anne. I am glad to see you."

Anne looked up at him from the couch, frightened, and nodded silently. Mr Darcy raised his eyebrows at Catherine. Lady Catherine sniffed and glared at him. Mr Darcy beckoned Georgiana forward.

"Lady Catherine, this is Georgiana," said Mr Darcy.

"Come here child," said Lady Catherine. Georgiana stepped forward a few paces and curtsied nervously. Lady Catherine rapped her cane against the floor. "I said come here! Let me have a good look at you, Georgiana. You're the spitting image of your mother. Pity you never knew my sister. You need a mother figure in your life."

"Thank you Lady Catherine, but Papa does well enough for me," said Georgiana timidly.

"Impertinence," said Lady Catherine. "Your governess should be instructed to stamp that out of you at once. Manners and breeding must be maintained at all times."

"I believe that Mrs Dowell's instructions are mine to give, Lady Catherine," said Mr Darcy. "Not yours." Lady Catherine flushed.

"And who is this other child?" asked Lady Catherine, pointing at Kitty. "Surely not one of yours."

"This is Katherine Bennet, my good friend's daughter and Georgiana's friend," said Mr Darcy. "To imply that she is less than a gentleman's daughter is a demonstration of low breeding, Lady Catherine. Surely your governess taught you this?"

"Hmph," said Lady Catherine. "Come here, Katherine. Tell me about yourself."

"Yes, Lady Catherine," said Kitty. "My parents call me Kitty. I am the second youngest of five sisters. I just turned nine. In a few years I'll go away to school with my older sisters Elizabeth and Mary. I play piano and I draw very well. Mama says that I shall never get a husband but Lizzie says that she and Mary will help me."

"I see," said Lady Catherine. "I do not approve of shortened names. Katherine is a perfectly good name. Wear it with confidence."

"I will when I'm old enough," said Kitty. "Right now, it's too big for me."

"Hmph," said Lady Catherine. "More impertinence. Where is your governess? At home with your sisters, I suppose."

"We have no governess, Lady Catherine," said Kitty. "Papa teaches those of us who will learn, and Mama teaches those of us who will not."

"No governess!" cried Lady Catherine. "You are almost a savage then. Make sure to take advantage of your time in school, as you will be very behind the other girls. Darcy, what are you thinking, letting Georgiana be friends with such a girl?"

"I am hoping that having a friend will help with Georgiana's shyness," said Darcy, "and teach her some social skills that I cannot. Mrs Dowell does very well for teaching her accomplishments, but social grace must be practiced."

"I suppose so," said Lady Catherine. "Had my Anne the opportunity, she would excel in the social graces."

"Then perhaps having her cousin visit will be a good opportunity for her to show how a lady converses," suggested Darcy. Lady Catherine flushed.

"Mrs Hopkins will show you to your rooms now," announced Lady Catherine. "You must be quite tired from all your travel and will want to refresh yourselves."

"Thank you, Lady Catherine," said Darcy. He gave a short bow and ushered the girls and Mrs Dowell out of the room, following the housekeeper Mrs Hopkins up the overly ornate stairs to the guest rooms, where Darcy was led to his usual room. It was an ugly sort of mustard colour and smelled faintly as though it had not had time to be aired before their arrival. Mrs Hopkins then led Georgiana, Kitty and Mrs Dowell to the nursery. Mrs Dowell pursed her lips at the mostly bare room and sent the girls to settle in as best they could.

A few hours later, a maid came and led them to a small east facing sitting room, where Anne and her governess were seated. Georgiana and Kitty sat down at the table with her, while Mrs Dowell joined the other governess on the sopha. The two women immediately began a quiet discussion. Georgiana and Kitty waited for Anne to speak for a long moment. Kitty broke the silence.

"You have a very thoroughly decorated home, Miss De Bourgh," said Kitty nervously.

"I am sorry, but I have no idea who you are," said Anne in a small voice.

"Oh!" said Georgiana. "Cousin Anne, this is my friend Katherine Bennet. Kitty, this is my cousin Anne De Bourgh."

"It is very nice to meet you," said Anne in that same small expressionless voice.

"Likewise," said Kitty. She fidgeted with the cuff of her sleeve. Anne's eyes fixed on that, and Kitty abruptly stopped.

"How have you been Anne?" asked Georgiana.

"Much the same as always," said Anne. "Sick, with many doctors coming to see me."

"I am sorry to hear that," said Kitty. "What do you do when the doctors leave?"

"I sleep, or have Mrs Jenkinson read to me," said Anne. "My eyes are not good enough to read myself, and I am too weak for the usual accomplishments." Silence fell over the table. Georgiana bit her lip, and Kitty struggled to not fidget. Anne stared blankly at them.

"Kitty is a good artist," blurted Georgiana. "She does beautiful drawings of bouquets and fruit."

"I have no interest in flowers," said Anne.

"What do you like?" asked Kitty.

"Nothing, really," said Anne. "Mama will choose the things that I ought to know about for when I marry. I am content with that." Silence fell upon the table again. Georgiana and Kitty exchanged glances.

"Mrs Jenkinson, I am tired," said Anne. "I wish to go back to my room and sleep."

"Of course," said Mrs Jenkinson. She stood and helped Anne out of her chair, and then escorted her out of the room. Mrs Dowell stood and brushed out her skirts.

"Good effort, girls," said Mrs Dowell. "We shall spend half an hour every day with Miss De Bourgh, practicing conversation. Now, there is a piano room down the hall that we may use. Georgiana, you will practice your scales and arpeggios first. Kitty, you will draw the landscape out the window. Then you will switch after an hour. Then I shall play while you practice your singing. There will be no slacking while we are here."

"Yes Mrs Dowell," chorused the girls.

Days passed, and Kitty and Georgiana continued their lessons. Anne began sitting in on their music lessons and watching them go over fingering and simple songs on the piano. She listened attentively to the theory lessons and watched wistfully as the younger girls played and sang together. Mrs Dowell and Mrs Jenkinson set all three girls to embroidery after the music lessons, and Anne learned basic stitches, enough to begin to embroider a handkerchief. It was a simple, childish design of ivy around an 'A'. Georgiana and Kitty sewed coin purses that they then embroidered. Georgiana decided on a pattern of snowdrops, while Kitty chose daffodils. Slowly, Anne warmed up to her cousin and her friend.

One afternoon, Mrs Dowell decided that their embroidery lesson would take place in the conservatory. The two governesses herded their charges down the stairs to the sunny, warm room and settled them amongst the plants. Anne was focused on her second project, another handkerchief with a yellow daisy on it. Georgiana was working on a bookmark for her brother, and Kitty was putting the final stitches in a bookmark for Mary. Suddenly, an angry Lady Catherine and an equally angry Darcy stormed into the conservatory.

"What do you think you are doing?" demanded Lady Catherine. "Anne, cease this stitching at once."

"Lady Catherine, let her alone," said Darcy.

"This is enough," snapped Lady Catherine. "First you try to tell me how to run my estate. Then you try to tell me how to raise my daughter. I will not have it, Darcy!"

"And I am telling you, you will not have an estate left if you do not curb your spending," Darcy snapped back. "Your books are seriously fudged. If your steward isn't stealing from you, then your banker is."

"How dare you!"

"You invited me here to look at your books," said Darcy. "I am making suggestions that could save you from poverty. As for your daughter, look at her! She is happy! She has people to talk to who are her own age. You cannot lock her away forever, Lady Catherine."

"I can," retorted Lady Catherine. "I am her mother."

"And she is the proper mistress of Rosings Park," said Darcy. "She has been since Sir Lewis died. My God, let her learn how to care for her own estate before it is too late!"

Anne and Georgiana were ashen. Kitty had her hand clapped over her mouth. Even her parents' arguing was not this bad. Mrs Dowell and Mrs Jenkinson watched the row with wide eyes. Finally, it seemed that Lady Catherine realized that she still had an audience. She turned her furious eyes on her daughter.

"You know you are too weak to sew," said Lady Catherine.

"But I am not, Mama," said Anne, her voice small but with feeling. "I can sew without tiring myself. I can do it, Mama. I can."

"But the doctors," said Lady Catherine helplessly.

"We are taking very good care of Miss De Bourgh's health," said Mrs Jenkinson. "And we have also practiced writing letters. I believe that she has initial drafts of letters for her Fitzwilliam cousins written."

"When did this happen?" asked Lady Catherine. "I did not know that you were interested in knowing your cousins better."

"They are my family Mama," said Anne. "And a lady should know how to write letters. Kitty writes to her family two or three times a week, separate letters. And Georgiana writes to Fitzwilliam and Henry and Richard and Cecelia. I have written one letter a week. I want to do more. I will not make myself sick, I promise."

"Very well," said Lady Catherine. "I shall trust that Mrs Jenkinson will give me a full report every day on what you are learning, for my approval. We shall see what you are strong enough for."

"Thank you, Mama," said Anne. And with a nasty glare at Darcy, Lady Catherine swept out of the conservatory. Darcy sighed and took a seat between his daughter and his niece.

"So, what have you been learning, girls?" asked Darcy. "I will confess, I've been struggling with her ladyship so much that I haven't been able to see you."

"That's alright Papa," said Georgiana. "I have improved my drawing a little."

"And I have improved my scales a little," said Kitty.

"And I have simply improved a little," said Anne. She frowned. "I am very behind other girls my age, am I not?"

"I'm sure you'll be fine," said Kitty. "Mrs Jenkinson is a very good teacher."

"Yes, she is," said Anne. "I shall have to try everything, then. Slowly, though, so as not to alarm my mother or the doctors."

"Of course," said Mrs Jenkinson. "Tomorrow, we shall start a sampler for you, and you can begin to learn all of the stitches a lady should know for embroidery."

By the end of the four weeks in Kent, Anne was sewing fairly well. Her stitches were sometimes badly spaced, but Kitty and Mrs Jenkinson assured her that even stitches would come with time. She also began to read and copy out Shakespeare's sonnets, her hand moving slowly and with effort across the page. Kitty and Georgiana worked to memorize various sonnets, and though they did not fully grasp the sentiments behind the words, they recited them back and forth to each other. On one occasion, Anne joined in, and the three girls giggled with glee as she correctly recalled all the words.

Anne, Kitty and Georgiana were sad when the time came for them to part. Anne promised to write to them at least once a month, and claimed that she would look forward to hearing from them more often than that. As Darcy handed Georgiana and Kitty into the carriage, Anne waved from an upstairs window, wrapped securely in a heavy shawl. Lady Catherine deigned to stand at the top of the front steps to see them off. Her scowl made it very clear that she was unhappy with the changes that had been made to Rosings, and that she was not sorry to see them go.

As they pulled away from the house, Darcy leaned back against the seat cushions and listened to Georgiana and Kitty chatter about the meanings of flowers, handkerchiefs, and going home.


	6. Mary in the Seminary

Chapter Six – Mary in the Seminary

Mr Bennett sat in his study, a cup of tea clutched in his hand. He was tired, but he sipped his tea and watched the colours of Longbourne's gardens bloom as the sun crept higher in the sky. He would need his strength for today, as it was the day that Mary and Elizabeth were to travel back into Town and go to school. He had written to Mr Darcy at the end of the last school year, advising him of Elizabeth's progress as related to him by the headmistress. He would need to do so again, thanking him for Elizabeth and Mary's sakes. He could focus now on Kitty and Lydia.

It wasn't that he wanted to neglect his estate; running it had always been overwhelming for him. He did his best, though he knew it wasn't good enough. None of the girls had dowries worthy of them. Jane would have her pretty face and quiet nature to rely on, but that was it. He had tried, he mused, to teach Jane about poetry and classic literature, about basic mathematics and history. Jane had looked at him with the wide eyes of a deer that had spotted a hunter and, with her mother's encouragement, read little, half-heartedly tried arithmetic, and politely skimmed the history books that he had handed to her. He had given up after a year.

Lydia was too like her mother, he thought as he sipped his tea. Too wild and thoughtless, too careless and without discipline. He had tried to rein her in, scolding her when he could, offering her opportunities to learn proper behaviour. Mrs Bennet spoiled her, giving her everything she wanted and undermining him at every turn. He had tried to teach her as well, and Lydia had brushed aside learning like it was a cobweb. He was no longer young and, he knew, no longer in the best of health. He did not have the energy to fight Lydia and her mother, and run the estate the way that it deserved. Something had to give.

He heard the front door open, and with it came the sounds of three moderated female voices. Mr Bennet smiled. Elizabeth, Mary and Kitty would be fine, whatever happened to him. Elizabeth had taken to learning like a hawk to flight, and read whatever she could get her hands on, including the newspaper. Mary was more mathematically minded, and her orderliness allowed her to excel at the pianoforte and in budgeting. Kitty was the artist of the three, always drawing and painting, which allowed her to understand geography well and recall history as though it were a story. If they were in a fix after he died, they would do well as governesses or tradesmen's wives, though he hoped it would not come to that.

There was a knock at the door. Mr Bennet stirred himself from his thoughts and called out, "Come in."

Elizabeth entered. "Good morning, Papa."

"Good morning, Lizzie," said Mr Bennet. "How was your walk?"

"Refreshing," said Elizabeth. "Mary and Kitty have gone to check the trunks and make sure that we have packed everything."

"Good of them," said Mr Bennet. "Tell me, Lizzie, are you happy at the school?"

"Yes," said Elizabeth. "I have a few friends there, and I enjoy the subjects. Though I do miss reading the paper when I am there, I have little to complain about."

"Will Mary be alright?" asked Mr Bennet.

"After a little while, she will," said Elizabeth thoughtfully. "If I know her, she will immerse herself in studies and forget to make friends. I will do my best to not let her isolate herself, but it will not be easy."

"You take good care of your sisters," said Mr Bennet. Elizabeth smiled. There was another knock at the door and Mary and Kitty came in. Mary was wringing a handkerchief and Kitty was clutching at her sleeve.

"Papa, I cannot find my copy of the Bible," said Mary. "I was sure I had packed it, but it was missing from my trunk."

"Are you sure you were looking in your trunk and not Lizzie's?" said Mr Bennet.

"Yes," said Mary. "I need it, Papa. It brings me such comfort. I am afraid of meeting strangers, and I need the guidance of God."

"Well then," said Mr Bennet. "It is a good thing that I have it, isn't it? I had it rebound, as the old binding was looking rather sad. Blue is still your favourite colour, is it not?"

"Oh Papa!" said Mary, accepting the newly-bound book from her father. "Thank you! Thank you."

"You're welcome, my dear," said Mr Bennet. "Go and pack it. We'll wait for you in the breakfast room. Lizzie, Kitty, may I escort you?"

"Of course, Papa," said Kitty. Elizabeth nodded. He stood and offered the two girls his arms as Mary disappeared out the door and up the stairs. They crossed to the breakfast room, where the girls took their usual seats near their papa, while Mr Bennet sat at the head of the table. A few minutes later, Mary returned and took her seat at her father's other side, across from Elizabeth. The four of them sat for a few minutes before Kitty giggled.

"I'm sorry," said Kitty. "It's just, we're still waiting for Jane to come down, even though she's been in London these past two weeks. It struck me as funny."

"We do seem to have formed that habit," said Mr Bennet. "Pass the honey, I'll want it when the porridge gets here."

"The honey is already next to you, Papa," said Elizabeth.

"So it is," said Mr Bennet. Mrs Hill bustled in with the hot pot of freshly made porridge and set it on the sideboard. A maid, Lucy, brought in a tray of pastries while Sarah, another maid, brought in a trolley with tea for the girls and a pot of coffee for Mr Bennet. Lucy left and returned with a tray of bacon and eggs. Once the servants had cleared out, they filled their plates and ate. The companionable quiet amongst them was pleasant. However, it did not last very long.

"Good morning!" said Lydia cheerfully as she bounded into the room. "Oh, you've started without me." And without waiting for a reply, she loaded her plate with food and sat at the table. In between bites, she chattered away about the new dress she wanted, and the fabric she wanted it in, and how the other girls in Meryton area would be so jealous of her.

"That is a lovely daydream, Lydia," said Mr Bennet, "but it will not happen. You are not yet old enough to be out, and thus have no need of such a dress. You would do better to read or sew today, as I have given Hill the instruction that you are not to leave the house until I return."

"Mama will let me go," said Lydia peevishly.

"And both of you will find yourselves without pin money until I see fit to restore it," said Mr Bennet. "Work on some form of accomplishment in the meantime."

"I could teach you how to draw," offered Kitty.

"Oh la, who needs that?" said Lydia airily. "When I find myself a rich husband, I shall have no need of such stuffy things as accomplishments."

"I think you will find the opposite is true," said Elizabeth.

"I take it that your mother is not coming down this morning?" said Mr Bennet, sipping his coffee.

"Why should she come down?" asked Lydia. "There is nothing special about today."

"Elizabeth and Mary are going off to school," Kitty reminded her. "They won't be home til Christmas."

"That's not fair," said Lydia. "How come they get to go on an adventure and I don't?"

"Why, not how come," Mr Bennet corrected. "And they are going to school to learn things. Heaven forbid that you actually try to learn anything."

Lydia pouted. "I could learn if I wanted to."

"And there's the rub," said Mr Bennet. "Elizabeth, Mary, when you are finished, go and say goodbye to your mother. I dare say she won't come down to see you off."

The two older girls finished their breakfasts and excused themselves from the table. They walked slowly up the stairs and down the hall to their mother's bedroom. Elizabeth knocked on the door. Hand in hand, they waited.

"Come in," called Mrs Bennet. Her face fell slightly when she saw Elizabeth and Mary in her doorway. "I had hoped you would be Lydia. Such a dear girl, she always lifts my spirits when my nerves are fluttering."

"Lydia is in the breakfast room," said Mary. "I am sure that she will come up as soon as she has finished."

"I hope so," snorted Mrs Bennet. "Mr Bennet is so unfair to her."

"We did not come to discuss Lydia, Mama," said Elizabeth. "We came to say our farewells, as Mary and I are off to school today."

"Another case of his favouritism," said Mrs Bennet. "I do not see why Jane could not have gone to school. She is all things good, and perhaps she could have made a friend who had a rich brother."

"Jane will likely find a good suitor this season," Mary tried to soothe. "Great-uncle Bennet will do his best by her, I am sure."

"Hmph," said Mrs Bennet. "Well, I cannot argue with that. Jane shall marry well, and we shall all be saved from the hedgerows should anything happen to Mr Bennet, and that ghastly cousin of his inherits the estate."

"I am sure Mr Collins is not so bad as all that," said Mary. "He is a clergyman, after all."

"Papa will want to leave sooner rather than later," said Elizabeth. "It is a long trip to Town, after all. Goodbye, Mama. See you at Christmas."

"Good bye Mama," said Mary. "I shall try to write to you."

"Yes, yes," said Mrs Bennet, waving them off. "Goodbye, Elizabeth. Goodbye, Mary. Off you go."

Elizabeth and Mary curtsied to their mother and left her bedroom. Elizabeth went straight to her bedroom and sat on her bed, burying her face in her hands. Mary followed her, and sat next to her sister, placing an arm around her shoulders. They sat together in silence for a little bit, Elizabeth shaking with repressed tears and anger.

"I should be accustomed to dismissal by Mama by now," said Elizabeth softly. "I should be used to her ways. Why does she make me so angry all the time?"

"You and I are her daughters too," said Mary. "It is not wrong to want Mama to show some care for us as well as Jane and Lydia. Still, we must get ready to go."

"Are you nervous, Mary?" asked Elizabeth.

"Very," said Mary. "But I take comfort in the word of the Lord, and in the presence of my sister. You will not abandon me once we get to school, will you?"

"I will do my best to spend time with you," said Elizabeth. "But this is an opportunity to make friends with other girls, girls your own age. It will give you a chance to blossom."

"I should like to have a friend my own age," admitted Mary. "After all, Jane has Charlotte Lucas, and Lydia has Maria Lucas, and Kitty is friends with Mary King, and all three of them are friends with the Long sisters. I should like to have a close friend to confide in as well."

"Amelia, while not my close friend, is a good friend," said Elizabeth. "And Catherine and Josephine are lovely as well. You will find a friend, I am sure of it. A friend all of your own."

There was a knock on the door, and Kitty suck her head in. "Papa says that if you do not come down now, you won't be going at all."

"Very well," laughed Elizabeth. "Come on, Mary. We shouldn't keep Papa waiting."

The three girls traipsed down the stairs and into the front hall. They helped each other into spencers and bonnets and made their way out the door. Kitty waved goodbye as Mr Bennet handed the girls into the coach, and hugged her papa tightly as he hugged her goodbye. He then climbed into the coach, and they set off, a waving Kitty slowly disappearing around a corner in the road.

"Anxious to start a new school year?" asked Mr Bennet.

"Of course," replied Elizabeth. "I would dearly love to see my friends again, and I am looking forward to being challenged by lessons."

"I am looking forward to meeting new people, and perhaps making a friend," said Mary. "I am confident that I can do well in lessons, but the challenge for me will be in social graces."

"I am proud of both of you," said Mr Bennet. "You are rising to the occasion beautifully, and I feel no shame when I receive letters from Mrs Longevin about your progress, Elizabeth, nor do I feel I will when I hear how you do, Mary. You are sensible girls. Things will be alright for you."

"Are you nervous because this will be your last year of school, Lizzie?" asked Mary.

"Next year is my last, I thought," said Elizabeth. She looked to her father for confirmation.

"Lizzie is right," said Mr Bennet. "Since her birthday is in February, she will do the extra year of schooling, and then have her ball the year after. I beg you to be patient with your mother for the months leading up to your ball."

"I might ask Aunt Gardiner if I can stay with them after Christmas next year," said Elizabeth. "Mama cannot complain about me if I am not there."

"Indeed," said Mr Bennet. "I plan on napping for the duration of the journey. Please entertain yourselves."

"Yes Papa," said Mary. The rest of the trip consisted of Mr Bennet's snores and the whispered conversation of the two girls.

Their arrival at Mrs Longevin's Academy for Young Ladies coincided with the arrival of another student and her family. Mr Bennet and Elizabeth led Mary to the now familiar parlour, and the other girl and her parents were shown into the same room. They sat on opposite sides and sat in awkward silence until Mrs Longevin entered and surveyed the gathered people.

"Welcome to my school," said Mrs Longevin. "I am Mrs Longevin, the headmistress of this school."

"My name is Wallace," said the man from the other family. "My daughter, Lavinia is beginning her first year here."

"A pleasure to meet you, Mr Wallace," said Mrs Longevin. "And you as well, Miss Lavinia. May I introduce you to Mr Bennet? His elder daughter Elizabeth is beginning her second year here."

"It is a pleasure to meet you," said Elizabeth.

"A pleasure, indeed," said Lavinia. The two men nodded to each other.

"Mrs Longevin, this is my third daughter, Mary," said Mr Bennet. "I am entrusting my girls to your care once again, and I hope that they prove credits to themselves."

"To themselves?" said Mr Wallace. "Not to you?"

"They are already credits to me for accepting learning," said Mr Bennet. "They must now do themselves proud with their studies."

"And we will, Papa," said Elizabeth. "You know we will."

"Very good," said Mr Bennet.

"Miss Elizabeth, you are to room again with Miss Amelia," said Mrs Longevin. "Your things are being taken up to your room as we speak. I trust you recall how to get there?"

"Yes, Mrs Longevin," said Elizabeth. She squeezed Mary's hand, kissed her father's cheek and curtsied to the rest of the room before walking out the door and heading up the stairs to her room.

Mary and Lavinia eyed each other from opposite sides of the room. Mrs Longevin questioned each girl about her education up to that point, and where Mr Bennet let Mary answer for herself, Mr Wallace answered for his daughter. Lavinia shrunk more into herself, while Mary relaxed.

"It is Providential that you have arrived at the same time," said Mrs Longevin, "as you will be rooming together. It is my hope that you will become good friends, or at the very least, get along well together. Are you ready to begin your school lives?"

"Yes," said Mary.

"I am," said Lavinia.

"Then follow me," said Mrs Longevin. "Good day, Mr Wallace, Mr Bennet. Hettie will show you out."

"Write often, Mary," said Mr Bennet, kissing Mary's forehead. "I shall see you at Christmas."

"Yes Papa," said Mary. She and Lavinia followed Mrs Longevin up the stairs from the main hall to the residential floor, where Elizabeth and three other girls were waiting. Mrs Longevin arched an inquisitive eyebrow at them.

"We wanted to welcome Mary and Miss Lavinia and help them settle in," said Elizabeth.

"Indeed," said Mrs Longevin. "That is very kind of you. They are rooming together in the room across from yours. I do not like to place sisters too far from each other. It provides a feeling of home for them."

"Thank you, Mrs Longevin," said Elizabeth. The six girls followed Mrs Longevin to the end of the hall and crowded into the small room. Amelia and Elizabeth immediately got to work, breaking the ice between the two new girls and organizing the unpacking. They spent so much of their time talking amongst themselves that they nearly missed the dinner bell.

Mary and Lavinia sat next to each other at the table and quietly talked, getting to know each other without the interference of others. Mary felt hope bloom in her chest. Perhaps Lavinia could become her first friend. Mary looked forward to school life a whole lot more suddenly.


	7. Kitty Begins Her Education

Chapter Seven – Kitty Begins her Education

Kitty sat between Mr Bennet and Mary on a couch in the parlour at Mrs Longevin's Academy for Young Ladies. At twelve, Kitty did not feel nearly so grown up as she had hoped she would, but also knew that she might very well be the youngest student at the school. She was looking forward to being Miss Katherine; it would be her first step into being an adult ready to be part of society. Mary sat calmly; she still had another year after this one to her schooling, and was used to being in the parlour by now. Kitty envied her, as Mary had a few close friends at this school, and she knew no one yet. Georgiana had written to her saying that she had a place at her mother's old school, but that they would still write often.

"It will be alright, Kitty," said Mr Bennet, seeing his daughter's nerves. "Your sisters have thrived here, and so will you. I am sure that you will find your own group of friends, just as they have done, and that your academics will enrich your life."

"I know, Papa," said Kitty. "I'm just nervous."

"I will keep an eye on you," promised Mary. "But ultimately, school is what you make of it. Lizzie helped to welcome me. My friends have agreed to do the same for you."

"Thank you, Mary," breathed Kitty. "I would like that."

The door swung open and Mrs Longevin walked in. Mary and Mr Bennet rose to greet her, Kitty following a heartbeat after them. Mrs Longevin's forehead creased slightly, but then she smiled and greeted Mary, sending her off to her room and her friends upstairs. Mary squeezed Kitty's hand and kissed her father's cheek goodbye before leaving the room.

"It is always so good to see how much your girls love you, Mr Bennet," said Mrs Longevin. "I know I failed to mention it when Miss Elizabeth was here, but it makes me feel better, knowing that my students have parents who are interested in their well-being."

"Education is very important to me," said Mr Bennet. "All of my girls have had the opportunity to learn. Their mother and I may disagree on what constitutes a proper education, but all of my daughters can read and write and do basic sums."

"And so you send me the ones who genuinely want to learn," said Mrs Longevin. "I appreciate having them here."

"This is my daughter Katherine," said Mr Bennet. "I shall leave her to tell you about her education thus far."

Kitty stumbled a little through Mrs Longevin's questioning. The crease between Mrs Longevin's brows came back as Kitty answered and stuttered, but the questions remained sharp and thorough. At the end of the questioning, Mrs Longevin sighed.

"I can see the effects of maternal neglect in you," said Mrs Longevin. "While I can teach you the social graces you will need, I cannot teach you to have confidence in yourself. And I feel that is what you most lack. Developing friendships with the other girls will help with that, I believe. I have set you up with Anna Bell-Hudson as a roommate. It is my hope that you will prove to be as good friends as your sisters and their roommates."

"I hope so too, Mrs Longevin," said Kitty. "I very much want to have a friend here at school."

"Then you shall have to exert yourself to make friendships," said Mrs Longevin. She rose. "Come, Miss Katherine, let me show you to your room. I believe that Miss Mary is waiting for us with her friends, and they wish to welcome you to the school."

Mr Bennet rose with his daughter and hugged her gently. "Off you go, Kitty. Be brave and work hard."

"I will, Papa," said Kitty. She followed Mrs Longevin out of the parlour and up into the school proper, and then up again to the bedrooms. Mary and two other girls were waiting for them at the top of the stairs. Mrs Longevin smiled at them as Mary explained what their intent was. The three older girls joined Kitty and followed Mrs Longevin to Elizabeth's old room.

"I believe strongly in keeping sisters close together, but not rooming them together," Mrs Longevin informed Kitty.

Kitty nodded, and Mrs Longevin knocked on the door. At the response, she opened the door and entered. Mary and her friends ushered Kitty into the room. They found Mrs Longevin frowning at another girl, who was seated on Kitty's trunk with her arms folded and a pout on her face. Kitty stared at her in bewilderment.

"Papa paid for me to have a private room," said the girl crossly. "That girl needs to move somewhere else."

"As I explained to you and your father," said Mrs Longevin, "there are no private rooms at this school. You will have a roommate and you will learn to behave like a grown lady and not like a spoiled child."

"How dare you speak to me like that!" said the girl.

Kitty stepped forward. "How dare you speak to Mrs Longevin so rudely? She deserves your respect. As for not rooming with me, well, if it is too difficult for you then perhaps you belong in the nursery still and not in a finishing school."

"You look like you belong in the nursery," huffed the girl.

"Katherine Bennet, this is Anna Bell-Hudson," sighed Mrs Longevin. "Miss Anna, this is Miss Katherine. Try to get along, as you will be rooming together for the entirety of your time here. There will be no switching rooms. Miss Anna, you will help Miss Katherine settle in and get to know each other."

"I am not a maid," said Anna. "I do not need to do such things."

"You will do as you are told," said Mrs Longevin. "Miss Lavinia, come and fetch me if you require help persuading her."

"Yes, Mrs Longevin," said Lavinia. Mrs Longevin nodded sharply and swept out of the room. At the combined glares of the older girls, Anna got off Kitty's trunk and flopped on her bed to sulk.

"I believe that Mrs Longevin instructed you to help us," said Mary firmly.

"I don't want to," said Anna.

"That is the reply of a spoiled child," said Lavinia.

"Don't want to or don't know how to?" asked Mary.

"The latter," snapped Anna. "And I don't see why I should either. When I am married, I will have maids to do it for me."

"If you aren't careful, you're going to end up as a maid," warned the third older girl, Sophia. "My brothers tell me that men do not want to marry women who cannot be self-sufficient, as that is part of running a household."

Anna got off the bed. "What do I do?"

Kitty opened her trunk and pulled out the first dress and handed it to Mary, who accepted a hanger from Sophia, and passed it to Lavinia, who put it in the closet. Tentatively, Anna picked up a dress and accepted a hanger from Sophia, clumsily attempting to put the dress on it. At last she succeeded, and handed the dress to Lavinia. It went into the closet with the other dress.

Slowly, the trunk got unpacked and Kitty and Anna tried to talk to each other. They managed polite topics of travel and weather for a full half hour. Once they had gotten Kitty's things unpacked, the older girls offered them a tour of the school. As they walked around the building, the older girls shared anecdotes of their time there, pranks and classes, teachers and students. As they talked, Anna grew paler and paler. Kitty noticed, as did Mary and Lavinia.

"Is something bothering you, Miss Anna?" asked Mary.

"I have no notion of any of the subjects that you are talking about," admitted Anna after a moment of hesitation. "I do not get along well with other people. I have a large dowry and a good background, and I always thought that would be enough to gain a husband. I fear I am out of my depth here."

"It seems that you are," said Kitty. "But you're fine with us."

"You saw how snappish I was when you first came in," said Anna miserably. "I have never had a sibling who was close in age to me, so I never learned how to share anything, especially attention."

"Then sharing a room with me will help with that," said Kitty. "I fear I am also out of my depth here. I am not very brave, and social situations frighten me. My papa has always taught me that I would need to have some cleverness for my own sake. I am not very clever, though."

"If you are comparing yourself to Lizzie, stop," said Mary. "Lizze has a bright and lively disposition, and is naturally brave and clever, though she can be a bit proud. I strugged with comparing myself to her as well, and to Jane as well, and Lizzie told me that to be my own person, I must let go of what I think I must be in order to be who I should be."

"Who is Lizzie?" asked Anna.

"Our older sister," said Kitty. "She is having her coming out ball in January, at the beginning of the season."

"That's so exciting for her," said Anna. "Has she planned it yet?"

"I believe that her sponsor is going to plan with her via correspondence," said Mary carefully. "What did Miss Darcy tell you, Kitty?"

"Georgiana said that her aunt was going to sponsor Lizzie, if Lizzie could impress her," said Kitty. "Apparently her aunt is going to meet Lizzie in late October after they correspond for a while."

"I hope that it is a beautiful and memorable event," said Lavinia. "Lizzie certainly deserves it. And that each of us has a night to remember at our own debutante balls."

"I just hope to meet a good man who appreciates me," said Mary.

"That is all any of us can ask for," said Lavinia.

"I am going to marry a rich man," proclaimed Anna. The other girls stared at her and burst out laughing. After a moment, Anna joined them.

"Hurry, we need to get changed for dinner," said Sophia. Turning to the younger girls, she added, "I live at the end of the hall on the right if you need anything."

"Thank you, Miss Sophia," said Kitty politely. "Thank you, Miss Lavinia and Mary. It was good of you to welcome us to the school."

"Is this a usual practice?" asked Anna.

"It's a Bennet practice," said Mary. "Lizzie started it, and I chose to continue it."

"Oh," said Anna. "It's nice. To be welcome."

"It is," smiled Mary. "I shall see you at dinner."

It took some persuasion, but Kitty eventually convinced Anna to help her do up her buttons, and in turn did Anna's buttons and hair. They joined the line of girls headed down the stairs, noting the oldest girls' perfect posture and excited chatter as they met up with friends they had only corresponded with over the summer. Both Anna and Kitty withdrew a little into themselves and sat meekly at one of the tables in the dining hall. They were joined by a few girls their age. Everyone rose as Mrs Longevin entered and said the mealtime prayer. They ate quietly, introducing themselves to their tablemates but not contributing much to the conversation. After dinner, Mrs Longevin sent them to bed, foregoing an evening in the parlour with entertainment.

As Kitty snuggled into her blankets that much later that night, she thought over her day. The trip from Gracechurch Street had been fairly short, though Papa had looked so tired for the entire journey. Meeting Anna had been rocky, though their chat before bed was a relief, as Kitty recognized a mixture of herself and Lydia in Anna, and she felt that they could be good friends. School was going to be hard, but interesting. At least Kitty wouldn't be fighting with her roommate constantly, and that was a blessing she hadn't been sure that she would have.


	8. Elizabeth's Ball

Chapter Eight – Elizabeth's Ball

The Darcy carriage rolled up to the front of the largest house on Gracechurch Street and stopped. A footman handed the occupants down, and they approached the front door and knocked. They were let in by a maid and shown to the parlour.

Elizabeth, dressed in a pale green gown that made her eyes sparkle more than usual and wearing gloves that went up past her elbows, tried to sit still as the last of her curls was pinned in place with a pearl pin. A pearl necklace that had belonged to her grandmother Bennet was clasped around her neck, and the matching earrings adorned her ears. Her aunt Gardiner pronounced her ready and beautiful, and Elizabeth rose with all the grace of three years of finishing school. She took one last look at herself in the mirror, and left the room to join the party downstairs.

"Good evening, Mrs Kingsley," said Elizabeth as she entered the parlour and spotted her sponsor and her niece. "Good evening, Georgiana. Are you ready for the ball tonight?"

"I am prepared to sit at the top of the stairs and watch all the lovely people who come to meet you as they arrive," said Georgiana. "I must write my own account to Kitty, or she will be most disappointed in me. You look lovelier than you did in the shop, Miss Elizabeth."

"Indeed you do," said Mrs Kingsley approvingly. "You are not overdressed, the way so many young girls are these days. You look like a young woman, not a feather pillow. My brother will be happy that you have grown into a sensible sort of person."

"I am pleased that I grew into a sensible person," said Elizabeth. "I am grateful that your brother gave me the opportunity to learn more of the things that I need to know."

"I am looking forward to going to school," said Georgiana. "Kitty writes to me about all of the adventures that she and Anna get up to. I should like to have a friend I can get into scrapes with."

"I should hope you won't get into too many scrapes, Georgiana," said Mrs Kingsley. "You are a young lady, not a young child."

"Yes Aunt Kingsley," said Georgiana.

"Oh my," said Mr Bennet from the doorway. Elizabeth turned to look at her father. He reached out a hand to her with a soft smile. "Is this really my little Lizzie?"

"It is, Papa," said Elizabeth. She took her father's hand and squeezed it lightly. "How are you feeling?"

"Better for a nap and the apothecary's tonic," said Mr Bennet. "I'll make it through the first dance, though not likely the first set. Darcy will have to finish it with you."

"It means the world to me that you will be at my coming out," said Elizabeth. "I'm so glad, Papa, so very glad."

"Well, I did it for Jane," said Mr Bennet. "It will be a pleasure to dance your first dance with you."

"It is just about time to go," said Mrs Kingsley. "It will not do to be late for your own ball, Elizabeth."

"It will not," agreed Elizabeth. "I would very much like to be in the receiving line to be introduced to the guests."

"As you should," said Mrs Kingsley.

"I have one more gift for you, Elizabeth," said Mr Bennet. He gestured forward a footman, who opened a box. Elizabeth reached inside and pulled out a beautiful cloak. She gasped and looked at her father. He nodded and said, "It is for tonight, but also for when you go to the opera or theatre."

"Thank you, Papa," said Elizabeth. The footman put the box down and helped Elizabeth into the cloak. Mrs Kingsley took Mr Bennet's arm and together the four of them proceeded out of the house and to the carriage. Mr Gardiner emerged from his study to assure them that he and Mrs Gardiner would be at the ball that evening. Mr Bennet handed Mrs Kingsley, Elizabeth and Georgiana into the carriage and climbed in, taking the seat next to his daughter. The carriage departed, headed for Darcy House. The trip was quiet, Elizabeth's nerves overwhelming her, while Mr Bennet conserved his energy. When they arrived, he handed each of them out and escorted Elizabeth up the steps to the house. Mrs Kingsley entered, Georgiana and the Bennets behind her.

"Welcome, Sarah," said Mr Darcy, opening his arms to his sister. "Everything is exactly the way you commanded it, as far as I'm aware."

"Thank you, George," said Mrs Kingsley. "Is Fitzwilliam ready yet?"

"He is hiding in the library," said Mr Darcy. "Bennet, old man, how are you?"

"Old and unwell," said Mr Bennet. "But I will not miss Lizzie's first dance for the world."

"Miss Elizabeth, you look lovely," said Mr Darcy. "You've grown up quite a bit since I met you."

"I should hope so," said Elizabeth. "I would not like to be as I was at fourteen after experiencing so much more of life."

Mr Darcy smiled. "Well, all is in readiness. Ah, but you have not met my son yet. Poor boy, he's heard about nothing but you since Georgiana met you."

"I hope, then, that his expectations are not too high," said Elizabeth. "Much of Georgiana's information about me comes from Kitty, and Kitty rather looks up to Mary and me."

"You are a good older sister," protested Georgiana. "Kitty does not exaggerate at all."

"High praise," said Elizabeth. "I shall endeavor to earn it."

"About that," said Georgiana, suddenly shy, "would you write to me? Please? I should like to have an older sister figure until I have a sister for real. And even after."

"I would very much like to write to you," said Elizabeth.

"Up the stairs you go, Georgiana," said Mr Darcy. "Sarah, I'll go and get Fitzwilliam. Get ready to greet the first guests."

"This is not my first ball, George," said Mrs Kingsley with amusement, "it is Elizabeth's. And it will go beautifully."

"Of course," said Mr Darcy. He bowed slightly and went up the stairs towards the library. Cloaks were removed and Mr Bennet sat heavily in a chair in the front hall. Elizabeth stood next to him worriedly. Mrs Kingsley gave a few last-minute instructions to a maid. A few minutes later Mr Darcy returned with a young man. The young man's face was an inscrutable mask, and his dark curls were slightly tousled. Mrs Kingsley smiled and embraced him.

"You look all grown up, Fitzwilliam," said Mrs Kingsley warmly. "Very charming."

"Thank you, Aunt Kingsley," said Fitzwilliam Darcy. He looked up, and his eyes met Elizabeth's. A faint blush rose to her cheeks, but she held his gaze.

"Miss Elizabeth Bennet, may I introduce you to my son, Fitzwilliam Darcy?" said Mr Darcy. "Fitzwilliam, this is Miss Elizabeth."

"It is a pleasure to finally meet you," said Master Darcy, bowing slightly. "Georgiana has said so much about you."

"I am sure that most of what she has said has come from my sister Kitty," said Elizabeth, "and must be considered through the lens of an affectionate younger sister. Georgiana has said little about you, but what she has said speaks well of your bond as siblings."

"Do you consider the bonds between siblings to be of great importance?" asked Master Darcy.

"I do," said Elizabeth. "It shows a care or lack thereof for family, as the case may be. One who cares so well for their family might well prove to be a good friend. Therefore, Georgiana's praise of you forces me to consider the notion that you might prove a good friend, should I prove myself to be of interest to you."

"And if I find you lacking?" said Master Darcy. "What do you suppose would be the case then?"

"Then I believe that you would act as a polite and indifferent acquaintance," said Elizabeth. "But you would not go out of your way to acknowledge me, or any who you find lacking. Only those who have truly offended would receive a direct cut from you. And well they would deserve it."

"I see you have scoped out much of Fitzwilliam's personality, just from his relationship with Georgiana," said Mr Darcy with a laugh.

"It remains to be seen what Master Darcy thinks of me," said Elizabeth.

Mrs Kingsley coughed lightly and arched her eyebrows at her nephew. Master Darcy faintly shook his head. Mrs Kingsley coughed again and snapped her fan against her wrist. Master Darcy sighed and stepped closer to Elizabeth.

"Miss Elizabeth, may I solicit your hand for a dance?" asked Master Darcy.

"You may," said Elizabeth. "I have the second set free, if that is agreeable?"

"It is," said Master Darcy. "I am surprised you did not ask to open the ball with me."

"That dance is for Papa," said Elizabeth. "I would not disappoint him, nor be disappointed by not dancing with him."

"That speaks well of your filial bonds," said Master Darcy. "One who cares so about the feelings of her father might care well for the feelings of siblings and friends. I envy your husband; he will have to be extraordinary to deserve your devotion."

"Indeed he will," said Elizabeth. "I will settle for nothing less than a good man, with a good heart."

"Then I wish you luck," said Master Darcy. He bowed to her and retreated up the stairs to where Georgiana sat, looking enthralled.

"Forgive my nephew, Miss Elizabeth," said Mrs Kingsley. "He isn't very good with people he doesn't have to interact with."

"Then I shall accept the compliment of being addressed at all," said Elizabeth.

"Sir, the first of your guests are arriving," said the butler to Mr Darcy.

"Thank you, Thompson," said Mr Darcy. "Fitzwilliam, come down here. Go to bed soon, Georgiana. The ball will go on for far longer than you can stay awake."

Master Darcy stood next to Elizabeth in the receiving line, listening carefully as she greeted each person introduced to her by Mrs Kingsley, who stood on her other side. The Earl and Countess of Matlock deigned to attend, as did Lady Catherine, attended by Anne.

"I am fond of your younger sister," Lady Catherine informed Elizabeth when they were introduced. "She and I share a name, and I am pleased at the good her friendship has done my Anne."

"Katherine has said nothing but good things of her stay at Rosings," said Elizabeth, "and recalls her time there fondly. I know that she is an eager correspondent with your daughter."

"As she should be," sniffed Lady Catherine. Lady Matlock, standing not too far from them, hid a smile behind her fan.

"I am very pleased to meet you," said Anne shyly. "I have heard so much about you from Kitty and, more recently, Georgiana."

"And I have heard much about you," said Elizabeth. "I hope that we can be friends."

"I would like that very much," said Anne. "My ball is in two weeks. Will you come?"

"I will," promised Elizabeth, "if Papa says I may. Send me an invitation, and I will do my utmost to attend."

"Thank you," said Anne, a smile of real happiness lighting up her face. She turned to her cousin. "Fitzwilliam, it is good to see you again. We shall have to talk about our respective schooling."

"I should like to hear about what you have learned," said Fitzwilliam with a bow.

The Gardiners arrived shortly thereafter, and were introduced to the Darcys and Mrs Kingsley. Mrs Gardiner squeezed her niece's hands as they made their way down the line, and Mr Gardiner reminded Elizabeth that they were to dance the third set together. Fitzwilliam eyed the entire exchange with something like curiousity.

Mr Bennet led Elizabeth into the ballroom and to the head of the line as the first strains of the first set began. They had specifically chosen a slower dance for the ball's opening to not tire Mr Bennet unduly. Elizabeth's steps were light and graceful, and she and her father kept up a lengthy conversation about balls that Mr Bennet had been to: his first, the assembly where he had met Mrs Bennet, Jane's debut, and Mr and Mrs Darcy's engagement ball. Elizabeth's laughter floated over the music, its real pleasure charming many of the guests. As the set ended, Mr Bennet led Elizabeth off the floor, leaning heavily on her arm.

"Good show, Bennet," said Mr Darcy. "And well danced, Miss Elizabeth!"

"Thank you, sir," said Elizabeth. "I am an active sort of person, and dancing is one of my delights."

"And you danced delightfully," said Mr Darcy. Fitzwilliam appeared at Elizabeth's elbow and, frowning at his father, offered Elizabeth punch.

"Thank you," said Elizabeth. She sipped the punch slowly, though the dancing had made her thirsty. "Do you enjoy dancing, Master Darcy?"

"I suppose it depends upon my partner," said Master Darcy, "and how well I know them. I do not converse easily with strangers. My enjoyment of the dance is therefore limited."

"My fingers," said Elizabeth, "do not play as well as they might. But I must be responsible; I do not take the time to practice as I ought."

"And yet you play with charm, according to Georgiana," said Master Darcy.

"And yet you converse with charm, according to our interactions tonight," said Elizabeth.

"So you feel I must practice?" said Master Darcy. "With whom do you propose I attempt to speak?"

"I hate to interrupt," said Mr Bennet with amusement, "but the next set is starting."

"Miss Elizabeth?" said Master Darcy, offering Elizabeth a hand. She placed her hand in his and they joined the line. As the music began, they looked into each other's' eyes and began the steps.

Later, when Elizabeth tried to recall the dance, she remembered a few very specific things. She remembered the music, the musicians spilling notes through the ballroom and the sound weaving through the clutch of bodies. She remembered the scent of sandalwood and honeysuckle as they twined together in the air around her. She remembered blue, blue eyes staring through her to her soul. She remembered the gentle pressure of hands as they guided her through the dance, and the deep rumble of her partner's voice.

For the life of her, she could not remember what they discussed.

The rest of the evening was a blur of colour and sound for Elizabeth. She danced width her Uncle Gardiner, then with Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, then with a Mr Thorpe. She danced the supper set with Viscount Ashbury, and was joined at her table by Master Darcy, Anne, Colonel Fitzwilliam and the Viscountess, along with Mr Bennet and Mrs Kingsley. Anne was not allowed to exhibit, but Elizabeth felt that she performed well enough. After dinner, she met Master Darcy's friend, Mr Bingley, and Mr Bingley's sisters, Miss Bingley and Miss Caroline.

The single moment of clarity that came to Elizabeth after was her conversation with Miss Caroline. They were sitting together, waiting for the gentlemen to return with punch. Miss Caroline was looking around the ballroom with large greedy eyes, as though this was a market and she was deciding what to purchase. Having taken in the room, she turned to Elizabeth.

"Miss Elizabeth, I feel that as we are to be friends, I should tell you something quite important," said Miss Caroline with a little fake smile.

"And what might that be, Miss Caroline?" said Elizabeth, curious in spite of herself.

"I intend to marry Darcy," said Miss Caroline. "It is only right, as he is my brother's dearest friend, that I should bring them closer together."

"I believe that such a notion requires the gentleman's interest," said Elizabeth. "After all, it is the gentleman's pursuit which is the important one."

"You believe that you can make him choose you," accused Miss Caroline.

"I do not believe in making anyone do anything," said Elizabeth. "Only in seeing what is possible and what is not."

At that moment, the gentlemen returned, and Mr Bingley swept Elizabeth back onto the dance floor, leaving a dismayed Master Darcy and expectant Miss Caroline behind. The rest of the night passed pleasantly, and as Elizabeth returned to the Darcy carriage with her father, she thought it was rather a success.

Still, she could not shake the vision of blue, blue eyes from her mind as she closed her eyes and slept.


	9. The First Wickham Incident

Chapter Nine – The First Wickham Incident

Mary couldn't find her gloves. As Lavinia stood anxiously at the door, Mary searched through her side of the room frantically, trying to find the gloves so that they could go down for their weekly walk to and from church. It was unusual that Mary had misplaced her gloves as she always left everything in exactly the same spot so that she wouldn't lose anything. Giving up, she turned to Lavinia and sighed.

"I suppose that I shall have to be unladylike and put my hands in my coat pockets," said Mary.

"Better to be unladylike than to freeze," said Lavinia. "Come on, we're late."

They hurried downstairs with the other girls who were late and arrived in the foyer just in time for Mrs Longevin to begin the headcount. Once she was done, Sophia and her roommate, shy and quiet Madeline, joined them. Mary stuck her hands in her pockets in preparation for going outside.

"Oh!" said Mary. "I found my gloves."

"They were in your pockets the whole time?" said Lavinia. "Why didn't you look there, Mary?"

"Because I never put anything in my pockets," said Mary. "It's a habit formed from having a younger sister who likes to borrow things and not return them."

"That doesn't seem like Katherine," said Sophia.

"That is because it is like Lydia, who is the youngest," said Mary. "And I pray for her daily."

"That's good of you," said Madeline.

"She is my sister, for all that we don't get along," said Mary. "Lydia requires patience and God's love through this difficult time in her life."

"So what do you think that this week's sermon will be on?" asked Sophia. "It's almost Lent, so I'm guessing that it will be on something to do with that."

"I think you're likely right," said Lavinia. "Though I'm not sure what to give up for Lent this year."

"Perhaps your habit of procrastination?" suggested Mary. The four girls laughed together. They linked arms, two and two, as they walked with the other girls to church.

As they entered the building, a young man caught Mary's eye and held it for a moment before tipping his hat to her. Mary blushed and returned her attention to her friends' hushed conversation. They sat together in the pews with the other girls, and Mary and Madeline focused all their attention on the pulpit. Lavinia nudged Mary.

"Do you know that man?" she asked, tilting her head towards the young man who had caught Mary's eye.

"No, and I don't recall seeing him here before," said Mary, frowning. "Perhaps he's a new parishioner?"

"Perhaps," agreed Lavinia. "But he hasn't taken his eyes off you since we arrived."

"How odd," said Mary. Before Lavinia could reply, the church organ began to play and they rose to sing the opening hymn. Mary put the man out of her mind and listened to the sermon, which was on love and faithfulness. The pastor drew heavily on Proverbs 3:3-4, and Mary thought on her own actions, and the actions of those she loved. Mr Bennet, for all his faults, loved his family and tried to do right by them. Mrs Bennet, Mary wasn't so sure about, as she didn't know her mother very well. Perhaps that might be something to improve upon. Jane was all sweetness, but didn't really connect with her family and as such didn't show her love to them. Elizabeth showed her love by her loyalty to her family and friends. Kitty had yet to grow into her ability to love and be faithful, as did Lydia. Likely, Mary herself still had some growing to do.

She was still contemplating faithfulness, and all the meanings of it, when the final hymn was sung. Her friends, knowing that instead of chatting with the other girls of the neighbouring school Mary liked to sit in silent contemplation, left her to her thoughts. As she turned over various thoughts, someone came and sat beside her. Startled, she turned to see the man from before sitting next to her, a little too close for Mary's liking.

"Pardon me," said the man. "I couldn't help but notice you earlier. Seeing you sitting alone, I had to come over and keep you company."

"I prefer to be alone after services," said Mary. "I like to think about what has been said in the sermon, that I may better know God."

"That's admirable," said the man. "Many young ladies wouldn't put the time into such contemplations. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is George Wickham."

"I am Mary Bennet," said Mary. "It is nice to meet you."

"I'm charmed, Miss Bennet," said Wickham.

"Miss Bennet is my oldest sister," Mary informed him. "I am just Miss Mary."

"Well, Miss Mary," said Wickham, "perhaps you might tell me what you thought of today's sermon."

"Mary!" called Lavinia. "It's time to go."

"I am afraid not," said Mary, standing. "Goodbye, Mr Wickham. It was a pleasure meeting you."

The girls walked back to the school, and Mary again put Wickham out of her mind and listened to her friends talk about their take away from the sermon. Mary eagerly added her own thoughts to the conversation. This was the part of Sunday that she loved the best.

The following week, Wickham approached Mary again, this time before services. They talked of inconsequential things, art and music and what Mary was learning in school. She sat with her friends and listened closely to the sermon on honesty and the difference between being honest with those around you and honest with oneself. After the service, she sat in contemplation, and Wickham joined her.

"Good morning Miss Mary," said Wickham. "What did you think of today's service?"

"It was very thought provoking," said Mary. "Honesty between truly close people is important, yet we live in a society that encourages pretenses between people. And once we believe those pretenses, we begin to lie to ourselves about who we are. I think this is how we lose sight of God."

"Intriguing thought," said Wickham. "You are a very smart girl, Miss Mary, to see so much."

"I have had good guidance," said Mary. "What were your thoughts?"

"Honesty can be dangerous," said Wickham, his face clouding over. "If you are too honest, then you are vulnerable. If you are not honest enough, people claim that you are a liar and scoundrel. It is a very difficult line to walk."

"How did you come to this conclusion?" asked Mary.

"I once had a godfather who cared very much for me," said Wickham. "He sent me to Cambridge and gave me an allowance. He was very generous, until his son, who was jealous, told him that I had fallen in with a rough lot. He asked me about it, and I told him the truth: that these friends were good people, and that I was sure that they could help me in my career of choice, which was law. My godfather refused to believe me and cut me off, ending my dreams of becoming a barrister."

"How dreadful," said Mary sympathetically. "You were honest and your honesty wasn't valued. That is very sad."

"It is," said Wickham. "You are the first person who has heard my story, and I thank you for it. Speaking with you, I feel my faith in humanity being restored."

"And your faith in God?" asked Mary.

"I never lost that," said Wickham.

"Mary, it's time to leave," called Lavinia.

"I must go," said Mary, standing. "Goodbye, Mr Wickham."

"Miss Mary, I was wondering if there was a time during the week when I could see you," said Wickham. "I know it is forward of me, but I very much enjoy our conversations."

"We walk every day through the park around three," said Mary. "I should be glad to see you then."

Mary joined her friends at the door and followed them back to the school, not joining their conversation. She turned the story Wickham had told her over in her mind, wondering at the cruelty that had been done to him and contemplating the manner of person who could do such a thing. It wasn't until they had gotten back to their room that she realized that Lavinia was trying to get her attention.

"Sorry, I had something on my mind," said Mary apologetically.

"That man at church?" said Lavinia.

"Mr Wickham," supplied Mary.

"Is that his name?" said Lavinia. "I think that it's odd that as soon as he shows up at the church, he shows an interest in you."

"That struck me as odd as well," said Mary. "I am not a great beauty, nor am I a known heiress. But I thought that perhaps he might simply want a friend and I seemed approachable."

"That does not go with the way he presents himself," said Lavinia. There was a knock at the door and Madeline and Sophia entered and sat on Lavinia's bed.

"What are you discussing?" asked Sophia.

"The man who keeps talking to Mary at church," said Lavinia. "Something about him is off."

"I agree," said Madeline. "There is something not quite right about a man who pays too much attention to a girl not yet out."

"Do you know him from before you were at school?" asked Sophia.

"No," said Mary. "I only met him last week."

"Hmm," said Sophia. "He sits too close to you for such a recent acquaintance. It's almost as though he's trying to court you."

"Would that be so bad?" asked Mary. "If he formally asked to court me."

"It wouldn't, if that was his aim," said Madeline. "And if you were out. But you are still in the schoolroom, not yet out, and have not met through a mutual acquaintance who might vouch for him. What do you even know about him?"

"Not very much," said Mary. She recounted the story that he'd told her earlier.

"There is something off about that story," said Lavinia. "Why would a man end a connection with his godson over the friends he made at school? One does not end one's trust in another because of unproven gossip."

"Perhaps the godfather was simply an unfair man," suggested Sophia. "Though it does not seem like it to me. I do not think you are being given the whole story, Mary."

"I do not think I am either," said Mary. "I agreed to see him in the park during our daily walk sometime this week."

"Mary!" cried Lavinia. "What were you thinking?"

"I wasn't," admitted Mary. "He is charming, and interested in what I have to say. I'm afraid that I did not think through telling him that."

"Well, we'll simply have to stay near you," said Madeline. "This man may well be a scoundrel, and if he is, someone will need to go for the teachers should something happen."

"We'll protect you Mary," said Sophia. "You're our friend."

"Thank you," said Mary. "I thought that something might be wrong, but I wasn't sure."

"Trust yourself, my friend," said Lavinia. "Usually, you're right. Except about people. People you have trouble with."

"But I am learning," said Mary, "and that is what matters."

The girls were on their walk in the park two days later when Wickham made his appearance. He greeted each of them with a tip of the hat and a charming smile before offering his arm to Mary. They walked in silence for a few moments. Wickham seemed to be savouring the early spring sunlight and the green haze on the trees. Mary kept an eye on her surroundings, ensuring that there were always people nearby and that they stayed on paths. After a while Wickham spoke.

"Miss Mary, I do not know how to begin this," said Wickham. "From the moment I met you, I knew that there was something special about you. It was as though God had spoken and directed me to you."

"Is that so?" asked Mary.

"It is indeed," said Wickham. "I know that I am destitute, but I admire you very much. I must ask; will you let me court you?"

"Mr Wickham, I am not yet out," said Mary. "It would not do to enter a courtship before I enter society."

"I cannot help it," said Wickham. "Your intelligence, your beauty, the grace that God has bestowed upon you – I am enchanted by you."

Mary stopped. "I cannot believe it to be true. No one in their right mind would call me a beauty. You are charming, Mr Wickham, but I fear you play your hand too fast."

"Perhaps I have moved too fast," said Wickham, stepping away from Mary. "Though in all truth, this should be easy. You are alone with me, Miss Mary, and your reputation is ruined. Entering a courtship with me, and eventually a marriage, is really your only option."

"So you are false-faced," said Mary. "Your story did make me wonder. After all, who tells their most painful secret to a stranger, even in a church? And your interest in me in the first place does not make sense. Your scheme is no good."

"I am surprised that you had the mind to puzzle through me," laughed Wickham. "After all, you are a stupid, plain little girl who knows nothing but her Bible and her lessons."

"Perhaps, then, I am cleverer than you think," said Mary. "Or perhaps you are more a fool than you realize."

Wickham's face darkened. He raised his hand and stepped forward. As he swung his hand down to strike her, his arm was seized by Madeline. She pushed him back from Mary and glared at him. Wickham looked at her, surprised.

"You told your friends," said Wickham, horror crossing his face.

"Did you think that all young girls keep secrets?" asked Madeline. "Every girl in every seminary will know about you. We will make sure of it."

"You don't have the connections," scoffed Wickham.

"Watch us," said Mary. Lavinia and Sophia arrived at that moment with Mrs Longevin and the rest of the school in tow.

"Step away from my students, sir," barked Mrs Longevin. "I do not know who you are, but you are not on the list of people approved to associate with my students. Leave, and do not speak to them ever again."

Wickham snarled at Mary and turned, walking quickly away through the park. Mrs Longevin turned to Mary, only to find her in tears and surrounded by friends. She sighed and ushered all of the girls back to the school for tea and a talk about the different kinds of men in the world.

Kitty, Anna and their friends joined Mary, Lavinia, Madeline and Sophia that evening after supper. They sat around a small table in the parlour, and Mary told the younger girls what had happened. Kitty had been horrified that someone had tried to take advantage of her sister. She agreed that other girls must be warned, and immediately set to writing a letter to Georgiana about Wickham. Likewise, the other girls also wrote to friends and cousins at other schools, telling them of a predatory man.

A few days later, Kitty received a letter from Georgiana which she shared with Mary. In it, Georgiana detailed her knowledge of George Wickham: his birth on her father's estate to the steward and his wife, his place in the household as her father's godson and her brother's friend, and his disappearance from her life about four years ago while he was at school. Mary was shocked at this knowledge, as her own experience knowing Mr Darcy was so different from what Wickham had described.

Now knowing a little more about human nature, Mary resumed her book learning and resolved to be very careful about those people she met, especially in church.


	10. Funereal

Chapter Ten – Funereal

Mr Bennet missed his library. It had only been two days, and already he missed it. The apothecary had come and gone, telling him what he had known for a while: that his heart was giving out. He had been confined to bed, and so his library sat empty. He missed his books and brandy and the letter collection from his girls. He missed the breakfast room, and really all of the downstairs. He did not miss his wife constantly scolding the maid and cooing at Jane and Lydia, and was pleased with himself, as he had gotten Elizabeth, Mary and Kitty away from their mother's neglect.

His valet came in with breakfast and a stack of books. "Good morning, sir."

"Good morning Johnson," said Mr Bennet. He sat up and was immediately dizzy. Johnson came over and helped him up into a seated position in bed, and made sure that there were pillows behind him.

"Are you alright, sir?" asked Johnson worriedly.

"As well as I'm going to be, I'm afraid," said Mr Bennet. "I'm going to need to write a series of letters today. After we wash and shave me, would you bring me my writing set?"

"Of course, sir," said Johnson, confused. Mr Bennet knew that his portable writing desk had rarely been used, and most recently had been used by Kitty four years ago to begin her correspondence with Georgiana Darcy. He would leave it to her, then, as Elizabeth and Mary each had one already as gifts from their uncle Gardiner on their respective sixteenth birthdays. Kitty, however, still needed one.

Mr Bennet spent the morning writing letters. It was painstakingly slow going, as he thought carefully through what he wanted to say. He started with Elizabeth, as it was easiest to give his lively, clever, proud daughter advice that she would need in the future. Mary was next, his shy, awkward, bright daughter who needed encouragement to keep growing and advice as well that only a father can give his daughter. He had just started his missive to Kitty when Mrs Bennet bustled in without so much as a knock.

"Mrs Bennet, these are my rooms, not yours," said Mr Bennet tiredly. "As such, you must knock before you enter. I am tired of your bad manners."

"Oh pooh," said Mrs Bennet. "It is my house as well as yours. I shall go where I please."

"You shall not," said Mr Bennet, but it lacked the usual sharpness of tone. This gave Mrs Bennet pause.

"Are you quite all right, Mr Bennet?" asked Mrs Bennet.

"Had you been in the house and attentive," said Mr Bennet, "you would know that the apothecary has been here nearly every day for the past fortnight, and that Mr Phillips has been to see me on business twice."

"Why in the world did you not tell me you were ill?" said Mrs Bennet. "I could have nursed you, rather than that awful apothecary."

"It is not the sort of thing that you can nurse me though," said Mr Bennet. "I will not get better. I saw a doctor in London when I was there years ago to send Mary to school, and he told me that my heart was weakening. The apothecary is helping me, but I am too ill to live much longer."

"But the girls," said Mrs Bennet. "None of them are married. Where shall we live? Who shall support us?"

"I would not count on the Bennet side," said Mr Bennet, "as Lord Henry feels he has done his duty by us. You shall have to speak to your brothers and make arrangements that way."

"But Jane," protested Mrs Bennet. "Surely you might live until Jane is married. And he promised to find her a husband."

"Lord Henry did no such thing," said Mr Bennet. "Only hold her coming out ball and host her for a season. That is done. You might also consider Elizabeth, who is also out."

"Why will you always promote her?" asked Mrs Bennet in frustration. "You never think of Jane or Lydia. Always Elizabeth, Mary and Kitty."

"Why do you never think of them?" retorted Mr Bennet. "You always fuss over Jane and Lydia. Neither of them has any talents that might serve them in society. Yet you insist that beauty alone will win them husbands."

"It will," said Mrs Bennet. "It must."

"My dear, you have more talent than you give yourself credit for," said Mr Bennet. "And more ability than you care to exercise. If you exerted yourself, Jane and Lydia would have some accomplishments and a more solid sense of themselves, like their sisters do."

"They should have been boys, those three," snapped Mrs Bennet. "When I carried them, they felt like boys, and I hoped. And then they look so much like you that I hoped more, only to be told that they are girls. Girls! As though we needed five girls! And then you treat them like sons instead of daughters, and I have nothing left to give them."

"Nothing but your love, which you have denied them," said Mr Bennet. "Your casual cruelty has hurt Elizabeth, Mary and Kitty, Kitty most of all. They need their mother, and their mother is not there."

"I don't know how to be," said Mrs Bennet. "I don't know how to connect with them now that they are almost grown up."

"You must try," said Mr Bennet. "For the sake of family."

Mrs Bennet looked at her husband for a moment, then shook her head and ran out of the room. Mr Bennet sighed and read over what he had written so far to Kitty. He continued writing her letter, and just finished when Johnson came in with a tray of lunch for him. He ate little, and when Johnson collected the tray, he frowned at the amount of food left on the plates. Having finished the letters to his three girls, Mr Bennet wrote a letter of recommendation for Johnson so that he would not remain unemployed upon Mr Bennet's death. He had started on his letter to Darcy when the first pains began in his chest. He ignored them as best he could and finished the short note to his friend. A letter needed to go to Mrs Longevin, that the girls might come home early for his funeral. The pains became nearly unbearable as he wrote a short letter to Mrs Bennet, Jane and Lydia together. Once he sealed it, he lay back gasping.

A cold sweat broke out across his skin as pain shot through his abdomen. He could not breathe enough to call out for Johnson. He could not move to ring the bell that would bring help. All he felt was pain, from his chest and from his stomach. He felt lightheaded. He could do nothing but lie in his bed, helpless.

And then the pain was gone, and darkness filled his vision. Every muscle relaxed, and his eyes fluttered closed. His hands unclenched and his head lolled to the side.

Mr Bennet slipped into eternal sleep, never to wake again.


	11. Collins Charity

Chapter Eleven – Collins Charity

Mr William Collins arrived at Longbourne three days after the funeral, despite being given ample time to arrive for it. Mr Phillips despaired of ever getting to read Mr Bennet's will, and Mrs Bennet remained hopeful that he simply wouldn't arrive and allow them to continue to live at Longbourne until her girls were married and they had somewhere else to go. Elizabeth, Mary and Kitty sat in the study together, not knowing what to say. Their grief was deep, and they each had dreams that would no longer be possible. Mrs Hill would bring them fresh tea and some food at mealtimes. Often, she would have to usher them to bed.

Mr Collins' arrival was expected, and the Bennets all turned out to greet him. As he stepped out of his carriage, he looked over each of the girls appraisingly. None of them looked good in black, and Elizabeth could see him weighing all of them. When he looked at her, she met his gaze without flinching. He started, then turned back to Mrs Bennet.

"Good afternoon, Mrs Bennet," he said. "I am Mr William Collins."

"It is a pleasure to meet you Mr Collins," said Mrs Bennet, "though I wish it had not been in such sad circumstances."

"The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away," said Mr Collins. "I am sorry to not have met Cousin Bennet, as I feel that he would have benefitted much from my humble guidance."

"Yes, well," stumbled Mrs Bennet, "allow me to introduce you to my daughters."

"Of course, of course," said Mr Collins.

"This is my eldest, Jane," said Mrs Bennet, pushing Jane slightly forward. "Is she not beautiful? And this is my youngest, Lydia. Next to her is Mary, my third child, then Elizabeth, my second-born, and last is Katherine."

"Katherine?" said Mr Collins, turning away from Jane. "Are you perhaps the Katherine Bennet who writes so regularly to Miss Anne de Bourgh?"

"I am," said Kitty. "Anne and I are good friends. Lizzie writes to her as well."

"Miss de Bourgh is gracious with her time," said Mr Collins, "and her solicitude towards yourself can only be because I am her spiritual advisor. I am pleased that you are acquainted with her, as it can only improve you."

"How is Anne?" asked Elizabeth. "Our last letter from her mentioned a slight cold. I hope that she is well again?"

"Miss de Bourgh is much recovered," sniffed Mr Collins. "I would not have left Rosings Park without such an event. Lady Catherine de Bourgh depends on my advice and guidance. It is very impertinent of you to call Miss de Bourgh by her Christian name, as it assumes a familiarity that I am sure you do not possess."

"Perhaps you would come inside, Mr Collins?" interrupted Mrs Bennet. "You have had such a long journey. A change of clothes and a cup of tea will do well to ease your weariness."

"Indeed, Lady Catherine de Bourgh often says that a cup of tea is the greatest sign of hospitality," said Mr Collins. He led the way inside, not even offering Mrs Bennet an arm to escort her inside. Mrs Bennet huffed and followed him inside, and her daughters fell into order as they entered their home.

A half hour later, Mr Collins joined the ladies in the parlour and sat down. Jane poured him a cup of tea, which he accepted with flowery, empty words as he looked her over again. Elizabeth pointedly stitched in silence as Kitty sketched the tea set from her seat next to her elder sister. Not wanting an awkward silence, Mary took a deep breath and asked Mr Collins about his journey.

"Oh it was passable," sid Mr Collins. "I dislike travel, all the bumping along and dust is terrible. Were it left to me, I would not have made the journey at all. However, Lady Chatherine de Bourgh insisted that I come and pay my respects to Cousin Bennet. I am shocked that you did not wait for my arrival to bury him."

"We were not sure as to when you might arrive," said Elizabeth without looking up. "We received your letter informing us of your imminent arrival, but no word as to your delay nor when we might expect you. The dead deserve to be buried in a timely manner, and you sir are not more important than the respect this community gave to my father."

"As his heir, I deserve every consideration," said Mr Collins indignantly.

"The dead deserve as much consideration as the living," said Elizabeth, looking up at last. "And Longbourne is not yours until the reading of the will, which has been significantly delayed by your absence."

"A young lady should not know so much about the law," said Mr Collins with a frown. "It is unbecoming. How have you raised her, Mrs Bennet?"

"A mother does what she can," said Mrs Bennet. "But who was I to argue with my husband when he decided to teach Lizzie everything he could rather than stick to a regular education?"

"Ah, I see," said Mr Collins. "How very peculiar. Well, Cousin Elizabeth, I think you will find that your husband will not tolerate your impertinence."

"Then I shall not marry, and be as impertinent as I am," said Elizabeth. "I do not fear being alone."

"Shocking!" said Mr Collins. "Lady Catherine de Bourgh would not approve. All young ladies must marry, and once married, must submit to their husbands."

"Then perhaps it is best that it is the lady's choice whom she accepts," said Mary. "A woman must be careful lest she choose a jailor over a shepherd."

Kitty looked up from her drawing. "Uncle Gardiner is returning from Uncle Phillips's house."

"What excellent timing," said Mrs Bennet with a strained smile. "Mr Collins, I shall have to introduce you to my brother Gardiner. He has stayed with us since the funeral, that we might wait for you to arrive. I am sure the he is eager to meet you."

"He is a tradesman, is he not?" said Mr Collins.

"And a good man," said Jane. "He has been a balm in our time of need."

"Indeed, indeed," said Mr Collins. "I am sure that I can impart some relief for your sorrow after dinner. Yes, that would be just the thing."

"And I am sure that we all look forward to what you have to say," said Mrs Bennet eagerly.

At that moment, Mr Gardiner entered the room and noticed Mr Collins, seated in the chair reserved for honoured guests. Everyone rose to greet him, and he crossed the room to sink into Mr Bennet's old chair. With a sigh, he turned to Mr Collins.

"I am Edward Gardiner, Mrs Bennet's older brother," said Mr Gardiner. "I assume that you are Mr Collins?"

"Indeed I am," said Mr Collins a little aloofly. "Mr William Collins."

"Good that you're finally here," said Mr Gardiner, "as my brother Phillips is anxious to read the will and get the legalities sorted out."

"I too am anxious to read the will," said Mr Collins. "Lady Catherine de Bourgh – you have heard of her, I suppose? – made it very clear that it is imperative that I sort this out with good sense and Christian charity."

"As I churchman, I am sure that you know very well what Christian charity looks like," said Mr Gardiner. "It is, I understand from our own rector, the very foundation of the position."

Mr Collins looked a little put out. "Of course. Lady Catherine de Bourgh says the same thing, and I pride myself on always acting with good sense and charity."

"Lady Catherine seemed like a woman of sense the one time I met her," said Mr Gardiner.

"You have met Lady Catherine de Bourgh?" said Mr Collins blankly. "I was not aware that she had business with you."

"She did not," said Mr Gardiner. "I met her at Elizabeth's coming out. Interesting woman. She has a strong personality."

"She is the mistress of Rosings Park," protested Mr Collins. "Why ever would she have been at Cousin Elizabeth's village debut, so far from her home?"

"Perhaps because it was held at Darcy House," said Elizabeth. "And she had been invited, due to her connection with my family through Kitty and Anne's friendship."

"I believe that you are overstating your connection to the de Bourgh family, which can only be through myself," stated Mr Collins. "And this flight of fancy about having your coming out at Darcy House is preposterous. The Darcys are an ancient and wealthy family with connections to the nobility."

"So do the Bennets," said Mary. "We may be a smaller branch, but we are part of a noble family. We are not as lowly as you think, Mr Collins."

Just as Mr Collins opened his mouth to remark on her impertinence, Mrs Hill announced the arrival of Lady Lucas and her daughter Charlotte. The ladies and Mr Gardiner immediately rose, followed hastily by Mr Collins, as the Lucases entered the parlour. Charlotte immediately went to Jane and the two women clasped hands. Lady Lucas nodded graciously to Mr Collins and Mr Gardiner before taking a seat next to Mrs Bennet.

"My dear Mrs Bennet," said Lady Lucas, "I do not think I have expressed my condolences to you fully. I am so sorry for your loss. Mr Bennet was a pillar of the community, and helped my husband with the essentials of running an estate all those years ago when we were granted Lucas Lodge. How are you getting on?"

"As well as can be expected, Lady Lucas," said Mrs Bennet. "My girls have been a balm to me in this time of sorrow, as has my brother Gardiner. It is kind of you to share your memories of my husband."

"Mama," said Jane, "the Lucases have not met Mr Collins."

"Quite right," said Mrs Bennet. "Mr Collins, this is my dear friend Lady Lucas of Lucas Lodge, and her eldest daughter Charlotte. Charlotte is a good friend to my Jane."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr Collins," said Lady Lucas, nodding in his direction. "Though I wish it were under better circumstances."

"It is always a pleasure to make a new acquaintance, regardless of circumstances," said Mr Collins. "And I am very pleased to meet you and your lovely daughter."

Charlotte dipped a curtsey in his direction, then she and Jane sat in a corner together and talked quietly. Mrs Bennet and Lady Lucas also entered conversation, though theirs was more a contest in subtle sorrow than anything else. Kitty put down her drawing and began to chat with Mary about Psalms, and the comfort to be found in God's word.

"You are very quiet, Lydia," said Elizabeth.

"I am not yet out," said Lydia, "and the vicar said that if I am not good then Papa will haunt me and never find his rest. I do not want Papa to haunt me for then I shall never get a husband and I shall be an old maid like Charlotte."

"Lydia, that is an unkind thing to say about Miss Lucas," said Mr Gardiner.

"Well, it is true," said Lydia petulantly. "And I am grieving. I am allowed to say nasty things."

"Grief allows for slight impropriety, not for pure rudeness," said Mr Gardiner. "And rudeness is not prized amongst the majority of people. Get ahold of your nasty streak, or you may well end up an old maid."

"Indeed," said Mr Collins, "for is not the duty of a woman to be patient and obedient, meek and mild? Such is her lot, for she is a daughter of Eve and must bear her foremother's sin."

"And do you also believe that the sins of the father should be paid for by the son?" asked Elizabeth.

"A man's mistakes are his own, though his legacy must be carried by his sons," said Mr Collins. Elizabeth arched an eyebrow at him, then took up her stitching again. Mr Gardiner attempted to engage Mr Collins on the various subjects of Napoleon, farm management, trade and philosophy. Mr Collins parroted Lady Catherine de Bourgh on Napoleon – "We are England, and we shall win by virtue of God's will" –, was completely ignorant of farm management techniques, had no interest in trade – "gentlemen need know nothing of trade, that is a tradesman's profession!" – and had only a mean understanding of philosophy that was not condusive to interesting conversation.

After a half hour of talking with their preferred companion, the Lucases left, and dinner was called. Mr Collins sat in the seat of honour, rather than at the head of the table, leaving Mr Gardiner across from his sister, who sat at the foot. Each of the girls took their places and the meal was had with relatively little chatter. Mr Collins eyed each of the girls speculatively as he ate, and the girls pretended to not notice.

After dinner, they retired to the sitting room and sat in their usual places. Mr Collins, having entered last, cleared his throat and called everyone's attention to him. As the room stilled, he shifted, folded his hands behind his back and cleared his throat again.

"I am deeply grieved by Cousin Bennet's passing," said Mr Collins, "And I extend my condolences to each of you, who knew him so well. The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away. Be comforted that Cousin Bennet is no longer in the pain of this mortal coil, and has been given his just reward.

"As a gesture of goodwill, I was prepared to marry one of my late cousin's daughters," he continued, and Mrs Bennet perked up. "However, as I have seen today alone, only one of those daughters is a good match for me. My dearest Jane, I propose a courtship between us, to begin one month from tomorrow."

"Why one month from tomorrow?" asked Mrs Bennet, bewildered. "Why not tomorrow itself?"

"Because tomorrow, my cousin's will shall be read," said Mr Collins, "and I shall take possession of this house. From that moment, you will have one month to find a new place to live. I think this is more than generous. Should Jane accept me, you may, of course, return to Longbourne. I think it best, however, to observe propriety in courting Cousin Jane and not live under the same roof whilst we woo.

Mr Gardiner's face darkened. "That is not charity, sir. That is casual cruelty. To force a widow and her children to move twice, for no purpose! It is absurd."

"I think, perhaps, that you do not understand the rules of propriety," began Mr Collins. Mr Gardiner cut him off.

"I understand that a good man does not leave women and children to suffer that he might live in luxury that once was theirs," said Mr Gardiner in a calm, tightly controlled voice. "I understand that Christian charity involves opening one's home to others rather than closing them out. Especially family.

"Sister, tomorrow I shall speak with our brother Philips and see if we cannot come to an arrangement," said Mr Gardiner to Mrs Bennet. "Jane need not marry an uncaring man for the sake of her family. We can and will get by together."

"Are you refusing my very generous offer?" sputtered Mr Collins.

"On behalf of my family," said Mr Gardiner, "yes, I am. In one month, they will move out still. But you will not court Jane."

Mr Collins went red in the face and stormed out. Jane sighed in relief. Mrs Bennet burst into frustrated tears. Kitty and Mary curled into Elizabeth's sides as she looked at their uncle with frightened eyes.


	12. A house Divided

Chapter Twelve – A House Divided

Mr Phillips had waited over a week to read Mr Bennet's will. His brother Gardiner had given him specific instructions on the matter; the will was not to be read until every party involved in it had arrived. With Mr Collins' absence at the funeral, the reading of the will had been postponed until that gentleman showed up to claim what was his by law. The other interested parties were, of course, staying at the inn so as not to inconvenience the family. Once Mr Phillips received the very late night note from Mr Gardiner and Mrs Bennet, he sent a note of his own to the party at the inn, as well as to Mr Collins.

Thus, at eleven o'clock the next morning, a still fuming Mr Collins and a coldly furious Mr Gardiner arrived at Merryton's law offices to see Mr Phillips. Already present were Darcy Sr and Darcy Jr. Mr Collins Started when he saw them, and swept them a low, toadying bow. Darcy Sr arched an eyebrow at his son, who remained impassive.

"Sir," began Mr Collins, "do I have the honour of addressing Mr George Darcy of Pemberly in Derbyshire?"

"We have not been introduced, sir, nor do I wish to know you," said Darcy Sr.

"Mr George Darcy, Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy, may I present Mr William Collins," said Mr Gardiner. "Collins, the Darcys."

"It is an honour," said Mr Collins, sweeping into another low bow. "I have heard much about you from Lady Catherine de Bourgh – she is my patroness, you know – and dear Miss de Bourgh, who has recently recovered from a cold."

"We know," said Darcy Sr. "Anne is a reasonably able correspondent, and her mother is positively adept at making her news known. I am sure that her friends in the Bennet family were pleased to know that she was once again well."

Mr Collins paled. "You mean that they were serious about befriending Miss de Bourgh."

"What reason have they to lie?" said Darcy Jr quietly. "It is easily proven or disproven by our family. I myself am acquainted with Miss Elizabeth, Miss Mary and Miss Katherine. The Bennets have proven themselves steady friends, even when time and circumstance separate us."

"Gentlemen, we are all here," said Mr Phillips. "The only person I would say is missing is Miss Elizabeth, and she is not permitted to attend. Thus, we shall proceed with the reading of the Last Will and Testament of Thomas Bennet, Esq., of Longbourne in Hertfordshire.

"First, To Mr William Collins, I leave the estate of Longbourne as required by the entail upon said estate, and all associated property. Enclosed is an inventory of what belongs to the estate proper, as well as the acreage and associated tenant houses."

Mr Collins nodded contentedly, assured of his inheritance. Mr Phillips continued:

"Second, to Mrs Frances Bennet, nee Gardiner, I leave five thousand pounds, to be dispensed at a rate of one hundred pounds per annum, for her care and upkeep. Enclosed are a copy of the instructions for my banker, and all necessary documents for the withdrawal of the funds.

"Third, to Miss Jane Bennet, I leave my mother's dower jewels and personal jewelry not associated with the estate. Enclosed is an inventory of same.

"Fourth, to Miss Elizabeth Bennet, I leave my personal book collection and private letters. Enclosed are further instructions to be seen and executed by Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Enclosed is an inventory of my personal books."

Mr Collins' face began to fall slightly, as he had planned on selling all of the books in the study and collecting ecclesiastical an moral tomes for future generations. As for the family jewels, he supposed that a wife might like them, but what of having her own made, to her style and liking? Mr Phillips carried on.

"Fifth, to Miss Mary Bennet, I leave the family music collection. Enclosed is an inventory of the same.

"Sixth, to Miss Katherine Bennet, I leave my writing desk and personal collection of art, not associated with the estate. Enclosed is an inventory of the same.

"Seventh, to Miss Lydia Bennet, I leave My mother's wedding gown, in the hope that when she is of age she might rework it into something beautiful again, and other assorted clothing. Enclosed in an inventory of the same.

"Lastly, to Mr John Phillips, Mr Edward Gardiner and Mr George Darcy, I leave the care and keeping of the aforementioned women. I trust that should the worst befall them that you will open your homes to them as good Christian men and fulfill your promises to me.

"I, Thomas Bennet, do attest that this is my last will and testament and that everything included in it is true and complete. Signed, April eighteenth, 18-."

"What?!" exploded Mr Collins. "But he has left me with nearly nothing!"

"He has left you his estate, and all that is associated with it," said Mr Phillips, "as the law permits him to do. Everything that he has left to Mrs Bennet and the girls they would have received as wedding gifts anyway, likely, except for Elizabeth's portion, which she would have received in the event of Mr Bennet's death, as she is doing now."

"But, but – ", blustered Mr Collins.

"About the Bennet women," said Darcy Sr. "What arrangements have been already made for them?"

"Elizabeth and I discussed the possibility of having her, Mary and Kitty live with me in London," said Mr Gardiner, "as they function best together. I will have to figure out a way for them to continue their educations, however."

"That is not necessary," said Darcy Sr. "I will continue to fund their education, as I promised Bennet I would, and will support Miss Elizabeth socially until she marries, and likely even after if her husband isn't odious."

"That is unlikely," said Mr Gardiner. "Lizzie will not marry a man she cannot respect. And an odious man is unlikely to catch her attention for long enough to propose."

"Brother, if you are taking the middle three, then I shall house Fanny, Jane and Lydia," said Mr Phillips. "They are here often enough anyway, and I cannot see Fanny wanting to leave Meryton, even for better prospects for her girls."

"Do I get no say?" asked Mr Collins.

"I believe you had your say last night," said Mr Gardiner acidly. "And I believe that on behalf of my family, I rejected your proposal. I will not have my niece marry a man as callous as you have made yourself to be to save her family, not when there are other options."

"You proposed to one of the Bennet girls?" said Darcy Sr, shocked. "Sir, they are in mourning. That is against all propriety."

"I suggested a courtship between myself and Miss Bennet," said Mr Collins. "To begin once they have moved out of Longbourne so I may move in. I have even given them a month's grace to find a new home."

"If you were serious about marrying Jane Bennet, you should have given her family a year and a month to mourn properly," said Darcy Jr, "and then court before a proposal. You are my aunt's parson, are you not? It may take that long for her to find your replacement. So now you have inflicted cruelty upon your cousins and inconvenienced Lady Catherine with your thoughtlessness."

"I had never intended to do such a thing," said Mr Collins. "Inconveniencing Lady Catherine de Bourgh was not at all what I wished to do."

"Your concern is not with your cousins' homelessness, but with your patroness's displeasure?" said Mr Phillips, astounded. "I am glad you are leaving the Church; it should not have been your profession!"

"As we have made our decisions regarding the Bennet ladies," said Darcy Sr, "perhaps my son and I might accompany Mr Gardiner to Longbourne to assist with distributing the contents of the will and inform them of where they shall live."

"My sister is quite anxious," said Mr Gardiner. "Perhaps, Mr Collins, you might introduce yourself around the neighbourhood or some such thing. The Lucases know you; perhaps Sir William Lucas may be prevailed upon to help you meet the neighbours."

"Ah, yes," said Mr Collins. "I shall call upon them directly." And with another extravagant bow in the direction of the Darcys, he left the offices. Mr Phillips and Mr Gardiner sighed in unison.

"Shall we, gentlemen?" asked Mr Phillips.

The four men made their way back to Longbourne in silence, each man attending to his mount and his thoughts. Their arrival was met by Elizabeth, Mary and Kitty returning from a walk through the gardens. Their black dresses stood starkly against the light flowers around them. The girls curtsied to the men as they approached.

"Did you have a good walk?" asked Mr Gardiner.

"We did," said Kitty. "Papa would not want us to stop exercising because he is gone."

"That is true," said Mr Gardiner. "Your father wanted you to be happy and capable."

"I appreciate all that he did for us, now more than ever," said Elizabeth. "But please, come inside. Mama will want to know what Papa's will said."

The other three ladies were found in the parlour, sewing quietly. Mrs Hill announced their guests, and after the pleasantries were done with, Mr Phillips gave a summary of the will and distributed the inventories to the respective lady. Once that was done, with tears and declarations of pleasure from various members of the family, Mr Gardiner explained what had been decided for their housing. Mrs Bennet immediately pulled Jane and Lydia close, while Elizabeth took Mary and Kitty's hands.

"Thank you," said Mrs Bennet. "I truly did not know what would become of us. But I shall have my dear girls with me, and that shall be enough."

"Will you stay to tea?" asked Mary. "I am sure that there is more that must be discussed."

"Indeed," said Darcy Sr. "Tea would be appreciated."

The men sat down, Mr Gardiner and Mr Phillips by Mrs Bennet at the fireplace, Darcy Sr by the window where he was joined by Mary and Kitty while Darcy Jr sat between Elizabeth and Jane. Almost immediately, Darcy Jr was pulled into a discussion of Shakespeare's tragedies, specifically King Lear and the comfort of a truly loving family. Jane mostly listened and felt a pang as Elizabeth could talk of specific passages while she barely knew the story. Mr Gardiner and Mr Phillips were talking their sister down from hysterics that Lydia was attempting to fan into a full blown attack of nerves, and Mary and Kitty were sharing a story with Darcy Sr that by turns had him serious and smiling.

The Darcys left before dinner, feeling that it would be best to let the family eat in some privacy. And if Elizabeth watched Darcy Jr leave a little too long, well, none of the sisters who noticed were going to tell their mama about it.


	13. Netherfield Park is Let

Chapter Thirteen – Netherfield Park is Let

Elizabeth and the footman, Daniel, returned from her morning walk through the nearby park. As it was not a fashionable hour and Elizabeth was not inclined to be seen, she remained within the bounds of propriety. Her mourning period was nearly half over, yet the loss of her father still felt fresh. She was beginning to wonder if it always would, or if time would ease the sadness, the ache of missing him. Daniel helped her out of her coat and hat, and retreated to the kitchen to help with the serving of breakfast. Elizabeth climbed the stairs to exchange her walking boots for her most comfortable slippers.

By the time she reached the breakfast table, Mr and Mrs Gardiner were already there, eating. Their young children were up in the nursery being supervised by a maid as they ate their breakfast. Elizabeth sat at the table and served herself breakfast. Her aunt inquired about her walk, and Elizabeth shared her observations of the park and neighbourhood. Every day, there was something slightly different, and Elizabeth was attempting to sketch the types of households in Gracechurch Street. At first, this habit had concerned the Gardiners, but they quickly realized that it was something that Mr Bennet had taught her to do and she was trying to hold on to his memory. It still concerned them, but once they knew it was not malicious they let it be.

"The post has arrived, sir," said Daniel, offering a silver tray with a pile of letters on it to Mr Gardiner.

"Thank you Daniel," said Mr Gardiner. He took the letters and quickly sorted through them. There were three for Mrs Gardiner from her friends, two for Elizabeth, and eight for Mr Gardiner. They each opened their letters and read through them. Elizabeth frowned at one of the letters before she opened it.

"Elizabeth?" said Mrs Gardiner. "What's wrong?"

"The letter is from Jane," said Elizabeth. "She has never written to me before."

"Then perhaps it's urgent news," said Mrs Gardiner.

"Were that the case, we would have gotten a letter from Fanny," said Mr Gardiner.

Elizabeth opened the letter and read it, feeling her aunt and uncle's eyes on her.

 _Dear Elizabeth,_

 _I hope this letter finds you well, and that our aunt and uncle are in good health as well. Many years ago, I agreed to a correspondence between us. Please forgive me for never responding to your letters at that time; I have not got your turn of phrase, nor can I find interest and amusement in the everyday. None the less, I feel I must write to you now, as I find myself missing our father's presence, and I know you were closest to him._

 _I have begun reading poetry in addition to my embroidery. I do not understand much of it, but there are some pretty passages that I enjoy and would wish to understand better. If there are any poets, or indeed authors, that you would recommend, I would be happy if you shared them. Mama is not sure that such reading is good for me, but seeing as Mama spends much of her time with Lydia these days, I do not think that what I am reading will bother her very much._

 _I must beg your forgiveness again, as I have been speaking only of myself. How do you fare? I know that Papa's death affected you greatly, and that losing Longbourne so soon after compounded the pain. I do not know how to comfort you, except to say that you above all of us have good memories of Papa to think on and cherish._

 _On the subject of Longbourne, I must share some surprising news. My dear friend Charlotte has agreed, after a short courtship, to marry Mr Collins. I am happy for her, as I know that she has wanted a home of her own for many years now. At twenty-five, I think she feared never having that, and will be quite content as mistress of her own home. I will admit to fearing that Mr Collins would renew his addresses once the mourning period was over. But Charlotte seems happy enough with him, and Lady Lucas is, of course, delighted and reminding Mama of her daughter's marriage at every opportunity._

 _The other exciting piece of news in the neighbourhood is that Netherfield Park is let at last! Mama is beside herself, pestering poor Uncle Phillips to go and introduce himself to our new neighbour. I say neighbour, but I no longer think that we will be thought of as neighbours by the new residents. Still, there is some excitement._

 _We have discovered that the new resident's name is Mr Bingley. Mama is sure that he will fall in love with me. I am not so sure. Other than beauty, I have nothing to offer to him except our connection to Lord Henry Bennet, who does not see or speak to us. Uncle Phillips has spoken to him, as he was the lawyer who drafted the lease agreement, and this has placated Mama for the time being. There is to be an assembly tonight, and there is a slight chance that he will be there. We are in half-mourning now, so we may attend the assembly but not dance. I am not sad about this, though I love to dance, but I am nervous about possibly meeting Mr Bingley and his party._

 _I must get ready now for the assembly. In the week it has taken me to write this letter, so much has happened. I am sure that you would be very entertained by it all, but then, I know you to be the sort of person who looks for happiness in every situation. I look forward to hearing back from you, though I will understand if you do not reply._

 _Your Sister,_

 _Jane_

Elizabeth paraphrased the letter for her aunt and uncle, eliciting sighs of exasperation with Mrs Bennet and her scheming from Mrs Gardiner, and thoughtful humming from Mr Gardiner at the mention of Mr Collins' latest maneuver. Elizabeth read over the letter again, noting the insecurity in her sister's words and feeling slightly saddened by it. Jane should be confident, to Elizabeth's mind, in the skills that Mama had taught her about running a household effectively and maintaining a budget. She would say as much in her reply letter.

Though perhaps Mama did not teach Jane those things. Perhaps Mama truly thought that Jane by virtue of beauty alone would make a good marriage. Elizabeth put that thought aside for later contemplation and discussion with her aunt Gardiner.

The other letter was from Georgiana, and it made Elizabeth smile. Much of the letter was made up of schoolgirl scrapes and her developing friendships. Georgiana had spent most of her first year at school watching and listening to how and what other girls were saying before approaching them with her friendship. The girls she had chosen to approach also had mothers who were Old Girls of the school, and also were on the quieter side, though two of her friends were more exuberant, but kind, and did not seem to care about wealth of the family one was born to. That warmed Elizabeth's heart.

The rest of the letter seemed to be condensed information from one of Darcy Jr's letters to his sister. Apparently he and his friend Bingley had taken up residence in Hertfordshire at Netherfield Park, along with Bingley's sisters Miss Bingley and the newly married Mr and Mrs Hurst. He was impressed with Mr Phillips, less impressed with Mrs Bennet's handling of her mourning period, and downright concerned about Lydia's behaviour. Mr Bingley seemed pleased to meet the rest of the neighbourhood, and had returned a few calls. They were also going to the monthly assembly, and perhaps they would meet the Bennets still in Merryton.

"Well, it would seem that, should everything have gone well at the assembly, Mama might feel a bit better," said Elizabeth. "There are two wealthy young men in the neighbourhood that were not there before, and if she could throw both her daughters at them, she would."

"Elizabeth!" said Mrs Gardiner sharply. "That is unkind. If true."

"I am sorry," said Elizabeth. "Mama has not been kind over the years. Still, that is no excuse for my unkindness."

"What do you mean, Fanny was unkind to you?" asked Mr Gardiner.

"She never really paid much attention to Mary, Kitty and me," said Elizabeth. "And when we did speak to her, she dismissed us and turned her attention back to Jane and Lydia. I have always wondered what we did so wrong that she disliked us so."

"I had thought that there was some division in the family," said Mr Gardiner, "but I did not think that Fanny would treat her daughters unkindly. She was very loving when we were children."

"Marriage and children can change a person," Mrs Gardiner pointed out. "Perhaps Fanny simply forgot who she is."

"Perhaps," allowed Mr Gardiner. He rose from the table and excused himself to his study to read and respond to his own letters. Mrs Gardiner reached across the table to rest a hand on Elizabeth's arm.

"Do not let your pain overwhelm you," said Mrs Gardiner, "lest it make you bitter before your time. You no longer have to live with your mother."

"Is it so bad that I want her to love me?" asked Elizabeth.

"I think it is a natural thing," said Mrs Gardiner, "to want a parent's love. And I think that that has become especially important to you now that Mr Bennet is dead."

"Of course," said Elizabeth. "Please excuse me, Aunt Gardiner, I would like to reply to Georgiana before I start the children's lessons."

"You do not have to teach them," said Mrs Gardiner. "At this stage, I can teach them well enough."

"I wish to be useful to you," said Elizabeth. "I am not made to be idle, and teaching my cousins will give me some experience, should I need it. You and Uncle Gardiner have been so kind as to allow me to live in your home. The least I can do is help you."

Mrs Gardiner smiled at her niece. "Having you here is no trial. And I will admit to being grateful for your help. Your education is much more extensive than mine. I truly believe that the children will benefit from having your help. Off you go, though I expect you in the nursery in an hour."

"Thank you, Aunt Gardiner," said Elizabeth. She hurried back up to her room and sat at her desk. Already two half-finished missives to Mary and Kitty sat on the desk, and she would finish them later, after lunch, while the children napped. Setting aside Jane's letter, she began her response to Georgiana. Her approval of Georgiana's approach to friendship was something she had expressed before; the girl was in need of friends who wouldn't use her for her fortune or her connections. That she had found good friends was a wonder. She had just started to detail her time spent with her cousins when she realized that her aunt was waiting for her.

Lessons with the young Gardiners went as smoothly as attempting to have three small children sit still long enough to learn anything might. After three hours of learning their alphabet and basic numbers, Elizabeth ate lunch with her cousins. Mrs Gardiner, seeing that Elizabeth had things well in hand, had gone down to her parlour to greet a few friends who had come over for tea and gossip. Elizabeth was glad to not have that expectation on her quite yet. She was content to teach the children, and then take them out to play before they napped. They stayed in the little garden at the back of the house, and the three children ran around in a game of tag while Elizabeth watched from a bench under a tree.

Once the children were in the nursery and under the care of the maid, Elizabeth returned to her room to finish her letter to Georgiana. With any luck, she would be able to post it in the morning and Georgiana would be able to have it within the week. Elizabeth enjoyed having another younger sister-like person in her life, though Georgiana mentioned her brother too many times in her letters for it to be coincidental. Georgiana hadn't had many people to discuss in her first few letters, but as she met other girls, she had gained a wider variety of topics of conversation. She still faithfully summarized her brother's letters in her epistles to Elizabeth. Elizabeth wondered if Georgiana did the same with her letters when writing to the younger Mr Darcy.

She wondered if he read them as eagerly as she did.

For dinner, she changed into an all black gown, different from the lavender she had worn for the day. She left her hair in its day style and went down to dinner. Mr and Mrs Gardiner met her in the hall, and together they went through to the dining room. They sat at the table and began serving themselves. Neither Mr nor Mrs Gardiner commented on Elizabeth's choice of dress.

"How were the children today?" asked Mrs Gardiner.

"As they usually are," said Elizabeth. "Full of energy and content with learning a little and then playing a little. They caused no real trouble, and they managed to not flatten any flowerbeds during their games."

"So you stayed in the garden today?" said Mr Gardiner.

"We did," affirmed Elizabeth. "By the time we had finished luncheon, it was well into the fashionable hours. I thought that so many people might frighten the children, and it would be easy to lose one of them."

"I appreciate not having my children lost or crushed by some careless person's carriage," said Mrs Gardiner.

"You needn't hide from society if you need it," said Mr Gardiner. "We know you, Elizabeth. Your isolation is not helping you heal. The only times when you smile is when Miss Darcy or your sisters write to you."

"Didn't Mr Darcy offer his box to us the last time he was here?" asked Mrs Gardiner.

"Mr Darcy was here?" asked Elizabeth.

"Young Mr Darcy," said Mr Gardiner. "He's investing in a few of my ventures, and we've been meeting to discuss that."

"He also seems to want to see you, though he is too polite to ask after you," said Mrs Gardiner. "I hadn't realized that he was a favourite."

"We're friends," protested Elizabeth. "Of course, we do not write to each other, but when we see each other there is always something for us to talk about."

"Then perhaps you are a favourite of his," said Mrs Gardiner.

"Please, Elizabeth," said Mr Gardiner, "consider going to the opera or to a play. Something beyond this neighbourhood."

"We are not asking you to stop mourning," Mrs Gardiner assured her. "But denying yourself the company of others is not healthy. Especially for you. You are too social for this solitude."

"I know," said Elizabeth quietly. "I wish I had known that Mr Darcy was visiting, as I might have come down. He is a very good conversationalist, once he gets started and likes the person."

"Then we will tell you the next time he is expected," promised Mr Gardiner.

"Thank you," said Elizabeth. "Perhaps a play is exactly what I need. What is playing?"

"I'll look into it," said Mr Gardiner. He exchanged looks with his wife as Elizabeth applied herself to her dinner with more interest than she had shown in months.


	14. The Second Wickham Incident

Chapter Fourteen – The Second Wickham Incident

There was nothing quite like early summer in London for Kitty. School was on break, and she could visit her friends at their houses, and have them visit her as well. She was particularly excited this year, as Georgiana had convinced her father and brother to let her stay in the city for a bit during the summer. The girls had planned to introduce one another to their respective circles of friends, and simply see each other, as correspondence wasn't nearly good enough when they could see each other in person.

Today was one of the days when Kitty was going to visit Georgiana with Elizabeth. Mary had declined their invitation to come as she had some new sheet music and wanted to practice it when there was no one to notice her mistakes. Elizabeth was more herself; in the months after Mr Bennet's death, she faked her regular liveliness in her letters, but Kitty and Mary had seen through it, and Kitty suspected that Georgiana had as well. But Kitty's older sister was now more herself, especially since she had decided that she would embrace being social and living again. This visit would be good for her.

As it stood, Kitty was ready to leave, but Elizabeth was taking her time finding a stray glove. Kitty was very nearly bouncing when Elizabeth finally came down the stairs, looking lovely in lavender, and with her dove grey gloves on her hands. She slipped into her spencer and led Kitty out of the house with a little smile that said she knew how excited Kitty was, and was not above making her younger sister wait a little longer.

"Where was your glove?" asked Kitty as they settled into the carriage.

Elizabeth laughed lightly. "In my opera bag, for some reason. Of course, that was the last place I thought to look for it, but there it was."

"I don't understand why we must wear gloves in the summer," said Kitty. "It seems very silly."

"It is," agreed Elizabeth. "But society demands, and we comply, lest our reputations be ruined by gossipmongers."

"You do the best Miss Hensley impressions," said Kitty, referring to their prickly etiquette teacher. "Yet you never make them insulting."

"Of course not," said Elizabeth. "I respect her very much. She was a good teacher. It is simply too easy to recall just the emphases and intonation of her classes, and then let them come forth. I rather liked Miss Hensley."

"I have so much to tell Georgiana," said Kitty. "And I am sure that she has much to tell me too. Letters are not good enough for all the little details."

"And sometimes, they are too much," murmured Elizabeth. "Nonetheless, they are what we have."

They arrived at Darcy House a touch too early for morning calls, but as they were expected, they were let in and seated in the more personal parlour. Elizabeth sat near the windows that overlooked the garden and watched little birds as they hopped about on the flagstone path. Kitty sat across form her sister, and studied the expression of peace on Elizabeth's face.

The door opened, and Georgiana came in, attempting to look composed. She all but ran to Kitty and hugged her, a large smile crossing her face. Kitty had a similar expression, and held Georgiana's hands as they just looked each other over. Elizabeth, now standing by the window, had her own little soft smile as she watched the girls, then turned as young Mr Darcy entered to greet him as well.

"Miss Elizabeth, you are looking well," said young Mr Darcy. "I am very glad to see you out and about again."

"I am glad to be out and about," said Elizabeth. "I am more myself than I have been this past almost year. Goodness, it's been almost a year."

"It has," said young Mr Darcy. "Yet the feeling is at times as fresh as if it was yesterday."

"It is exactly like that," said Elizabeth. "But I must live my life. Papa would be very disappointed if I let myself become dull."

"I think you would be disappointed if you let yourself become dull," said young Mr Darcy. "You are too sharp to enjoy being dull."

"That is true," piped up Georgiana. "Even when you are sad, you are clever and thoughtful."

"I am glad that you think so," said Elizabeth graciously. She resumed her seat at the window, and young Mr Darcy sat next to her, just far enough for propriety, and they began a conversation in quiet voices. Kitty wasn't paying attention to them, as Georgiana pulled her into a quiet conversation of her own.

"I am so glad you are here, Kitty," said Georgiana. "I've been dying to tell someone, and it's so exciting! I can tell you, can't I?"

"I have much to tell you as well," said Kitty. "But first, your news. Tell me everything."

"My father's godson has come back from travelling through England," said Georgiana, "and has been visiting with me. He tells the most wonderful stories, Kitty. I want to see all of England now, and I hope that when I am married, my husband will be the kind who will want to travel with me."

"I should like to see England as well," said Kitty. "Perhaps if our respective husbands won't come with us, we might travel together. But tell me more about your father's godson."

"He was raised like a brother to Fitzwilliam and me," said Georgiana. "And he is so handsome and has such good manners. Oh! I have not told you his name. It is George Wickham."

"Wickham!" said Kitty. "The scoundrel who tried to seduce and kidnap Mary?"

"George would never do that," laughed Georgiana. "He is too good. Perhaps it was a different man with the same name?"

"This Wickham was handsome and charming too," said Kitty, "and he told us a story about a falling out with his godfather that led him to destitution."

"It is true that he has not been here for several years," said Georgiana with a frown. "And I do not recall him writing. But he and Fitzwilliam are the best of friends, and Fitzwilliam is an apt judge of character. I am sure that it is fine."

"I thought that your brother's dearest friend was a Mr Bingley," said Kitty. "Mr Bingley is leasing an estate near Longbourne, and Jane writes about him frequently."

"I like Mr Bingley," said Georgiana. "He treats me like an adult, even though I am so young still. It is a shame that his sister is so nasty."

"What do you mean, nasty?" said Kitty.

"She has been pursuing Fitzwilliam relentlessly, and says horrible things about other people who she pretends to be nice to," said Georgiana. "She treats me like I am a doll or a puppy or kitten. Like I am cute but ultimately dismissible. I do not like her."

"I do not think you have to worry," said Kitty, glancing across the room to their respective siblings, who were engaged in a deep conversation, and weren't noticing anything around them. Georgiana blinked in surprise, then her face lit up.

"It would be wonderful if they married," said Georgiana. "We would be sisters then."

"We would," said Kitty. "But for now, I am your friend. And as your friend, I am warning you to be careful around George Wickham."

"I will keep it in mind," said Georgiana. They continued their visit, talking about their respective friends and schools, about music and books and about their inevitable entrances into society.

After an hour had passed, Elizabeth broke off her conversation with young Mr Darcy, and commented on the time. The Bennets excused themselves and said their goodbyes, promising to visit again later that week. The Darcy siblings saw them to the door, and with a bow and curtsies, they separated.

In the carriage back to Gracechurch Street, Kitty told Elizabeth about Georgiana and Wickham, and her fears for her friend. Elizabeth frowned at this news; she had been particularly angry that Mary had been targeted by the man. Kitty watched as Elizabeth turned the information over in her mind, and simultaneously fought her impulse to turn the carriage around and inform the Darcys of what was happening.

"For now, it is enough that Georgiana knows what we know of him," said Elizabeth. "Should any nefarious situation arise, we will be there for her, and we will help her tell her father and brother about Wickham."

Kitty agreed, and decided against teasing Elizabeth about young Mr Darcy. There was enough tension in the carriage as it was. Besides, it was more fun to imagine her coming out ball, what she would wear, and all the people who would be there for her to meet. Elizabeth would plan it with her, of course, and Mary too. And they would all be happy.

Two days later, a note came for Kitty from Georgiana, requesting that she come visit as soon as possible. The writing was shaky, and there were large blots of ink everywhere on the page. Immediately, Kitty passed the note to Elizabeth, who read it quickly. She looked at Mr Gardiner, then at Mary.

"Uncle, something urgent has come up," said Elizabeth. "Georgiana has asked Kitty to go to her as quickly as possible. From the note, she is very distressed."

"You were going to see her today, were you not, Kitty?" said Mrs Gardiner.

"I was," said Kitty. "But in the afternoon."

"Well, go in the morning instead," said Mr Gardiner. "Take Elizabeth and Mary with you. It will be good for all of you to get out of the house for a time. Let us know what's happening when you can."

"I think I shall go to the bookstore instead," said Mary. "I am not well acquainted with Miss Darcy, and I think that if she's distressed she won't want a relative stranger there."

"I think that in this instance, you may be exactly what she needs," said Elizabeth.

"If you think so, I will go," said Mary.

"Besides, I am sure that it is a silly thing, and the sight of the three of you will cheer her up immensely," said Mr Gardiner.

"I do not think so," said Elizabeth. "A Mr George Wickham has recently returned to her life after being raised as a brother to her. And Kitty and I don't trust his motives."

"That is significantly more serious," said Mr Gardiner. "Do what you think is best, Elizabeth. Your judgement is usually sound, though occasionally biased."

"It is a flaw I acknowledge," said Elizabeth. "And I do try to be objective. But still, this doesn't sit right with me."

"Nor with me," said Mary. "That man is a snake. I'm glad I never found out what he wanted from me. I'm so grateful to my friends for helping me remove him from my life."

"Go get dressed for the day," said Mrs Gardiner. "I'll get the carriage for you. Send it back to us once you get there; we'll send it back once you send a note saying that you are ready to come home."

The three girls excused themselves from the table and flew up the stairs. Day dresses were put on, hair was braided and pinned in place, and shoes were found and put on. They came back down the stairs fairly quickly. Mrs Gardiner and the footman stood in the front hall, and beyond them they could see the carriage waiting in the street through the open front door.

They rode in silence to Darcy House. Mary held Elizabeth's hand tightly, while Kitty watched the city pass through the window. Once they arrived, they were again shown into the personal parlour, where they found and upset Georgiana. As soon as she saw them, she flung herself into Elizabeth's arms and broke down sobbing. Elizabeth eased her down into the nearest sofa and held her as she cried with fear. Mary and Kitty sat near them and waited for Georgiana to calm enough to tell them what was happening.

"Georgiana?" said Elizabeth softly, as the tears began to slow. "What's happening?"

"You were right, Kitty," said Georgiana. "He's awful. He wants me to give him money. Lots of money. I don't have lots of money. My pin money isn't very much, not nearly as much as he wants from me."

"What did he threaten you with if you didn't give him the money?" asked Mary.

"He threatened to tell everyone what I was like as a small child," said Georgiana. "Not that I was a bad child, but still, everyone does embarrassing things as a child. I don't want anyone to know. Those are private things."

"Okay," said Elizabeth, stroking the thirteen year old's hair. "First thing we need to do is tell your father and brother. Are they home?"

"I think so," said Georgiana, sniffing. "I'll get them to come." She went to the bell pull and pulled. A few minutes later, a maid appeared and Georgiana sent her to find her father and brother, and bring up a few pots of tea.

"You're going to be alright," said Mary. "We've caught him early, and extortion is a crime. He will be punished for this."

"Kitty said you'd met him," said Georgiana.

"I don't know what he wanted," said Mary, "but I could not think of a reason why a man would approach a girl ten years his junior and not out, other than to do harm."

As Mary told Georgiana what had happened to her, Georgiana began to cry again. Mary had just finished, and was brushing away angry tears herself when old Mr Darcy and young Mr Darcy arrived. They took in the scene, and old Mr Darcy went to Georgiana.

"What's happening, dearest?" he asked. Georgiana cried harder.

"I'm so silly," she said. "George came back, and he told me wonderful stories and was so nice until he wasn't anymore."

"George?" said her father. "Do you mean George Wickham?"

"Yes."

"Tell me from the beginning," said old Mr Darcy.

"I walk in the park just before the fashionable hours every day with Mrs Dowell and Lucy," said Georgiana, "and one day I was feeding ducks at the pond and he was there and he talked to me for a bit. I knew him, so it wasn't a breach of propriety. And so we kept meeting on my walks, and he would tell me stories about his travels through England. And then he asked me for money. He said that he was in a tight spot, and could I supplement his income. I told him that I don't have any money, and then he said that he would tell everyone how embarrassing I was when I was little, and I had to give him the money."

"He tried to do something similar with me," said Mary. "He approached me like he wanted to court me, but I was uncomfortable and Mrs Longevin sent him packing."

"Georgie, why didn't you tell me?" asked old Mr Darcy.

"I didn't think that it was important," said Georgiana, "and then I didn't know how. I'm sorry, Father, I know I've disappointed you."

"Georgiana, you are still growing and learning," said old Mr Darcy. "Fitzwilliam and I always want to know if something is bothering you or frightening you. We want to know about your happy moments as well, and this sounds like it was a case of him making you believe that it was a happy reunion, when he just wanted to trick you."

"It's not your fault, Georgiana," said young Mr Darcy. "He's deceived all of us, at one time or another, usually for money. He's very well practiced at what he does."

"I cannot say that in a different life I would not have fallen for his lies as well," said Elizabeth. "He sounds like a practiced liar, and with charm, he would have been very difficult to resist."

"Are you angry?" asked Georgiana in a small voice.

"Yes, but not at you," said old Mr Darcy. "Have you agreed on a spot to meet him with the money?"

"By the pond in the park on the west side," said Georgiana. "I'm supposed to meet with him today."

"Then we shall have to meet him and have a discussion about what it means to be a gentleman," said old Mr Darcy. He stood, brushed off his trousers, and turned to his son. "We will both go, and if you can get Richard to come as well with some of his friends who can get him into a prison, that would be appreciated."

"Richard will help," said young Mr Darcy. "He does care about Georgiana; she is his cousin, and family is very important to him."

"Send him a note then," said old Mr Darcy. "Miss Elizabeth, may I leave you in charge of the situation here?"

"Of course," said Elizabeth. "I want to know how Wickham has been getting his information about Mary and Georgiana."

"I'll have the housekeeper interrogate the staff," said old Mr Darcy. "If it is one of my people, I do not want them in my house."

Tea arrived with an assortment of treats on a cake stand. The maid looked at Georgiana's red-rimmed eyes and puffy face for a moment before leaving. She came back a few minutes later with a cool washcloth and some cinnamon candies. Georgiana gratefully accepted both and dabbed at her face with the cloth as she sucked on one of the candies. Elizabeth offered the maid a warm smile.

"It's known amongst the staff that Miss Georgiana's partial to cinnamon candies," said the maid. "Mrs Farell makes sure there's a small jar of them in the kitchen for when she's sad or special occasions."

"Nonetheless, it was a kind gesture," said Mary.

The men left, and the girls had tea together, sipping slowly to calm themselves. The little cakes were delicious, and by the time they were gone, Georgiana was smiling again. There was a shadow in her eyes that wouldn't leave no matter what subject was discussed. They talked about art and drawing, prompting the suggestion that they go to an art gallery and look at the paintings, perhaps with a tour guide. They talked about music, and Mary and Georgiana had a polite argument about their preferred composers. They did separate projects for a while, sewing and drawing quietly. Lunch was had, and then just as afternoon tea was served, the men came back, accompanied by Colonel Fitzwilliam, and they sat down amongst the girls, pointedly not saying anything about what happened.

"Father, may Kitty stay with me tonight?" asked Georgiana.

"I believe that might be a good idea," said old Mr Darcy. "Would you two go and inform Mrs Farell about the change in plans?"

"If it's alright with you, I need to send a note to our aunt and uncle," said Mary.

"There is a writing desk in the library you may use," said old Mr Darcy. "Do you know where it is?"

"I may need a guide," said Mary.

"Very well, I shall show you where it is," said old Mr Darcy. He stood and escorted Mary out of the room. The remaining three sat in silence for a long moment.

"Mr Darcy, what happened?" asked Elizabeth.

Mr Darcy looked at her and sighed. "For so long he was my brother. And I don't know what he is anymore. I don't understand how we could be raised to the same ideals and principles, and end up so different."

"Wickham has a selfish streak a mile wide," said Colonel Fitzwilliam. "You have a selfish streak too, but you have learned to control yours, and he never did. He also likes to do as little work as possible, and live as lavishly as possible. You know that from your days at school together."

"I do know that," said Mr Darcy. "I do. That doesn't mean I understand."

"What happened today?" asked Elizabeth.

Mr Darcy drained his cup of tea. "We met with Wickham at the pond on the western side of the park. He seemed surprised to see us, and asked after our health, the usual pleasantries. Father then asked him how long he had been in London, where was he staying, how was he spending his days. Wickham began to spin this story of how he had been in London for a few years, living in different lodgings, he couldn't quite recall the address of the current one, and how he was working as a clerk in a law office.

"Father wasn't impressed. So he informed him that if he was going to lie, at least be consistent about the lie. Then he presented him with the fact that Georgiana told us what he was doing. Wickham took that badly, and said that he was only teasing her, that he would never actually take her money. Richard stepped in at this point to remind him that extortion, or even attempted extortion, was a criminal offence.

"And then we pulled out the debts of his that we've collected for years. It's a massive amount of money, more than he'll ever be able to pay back without marrying three or four heiresses in a row without spending a penny, and even then he might not manage it. If he went into a profession now, he would never be able to live comfortably because most of his money would go to paying his debts. Father knew that, I knew that, and he knew it too. So he tried to run. And immediately ran into friends of Richard's, who hauled him away to debtor's prison."

"So he'll spend the rest of his life in prison, then," said Elizabeth. "Away from anyone he might be able to hurt."

"That's the hope," said Colonel Fitzwilliam. "Though part of the reason we took so long is that we waited to make sure he made it to the jail where he'll be held for trial. He did, so it's down to the judges now."

"Then I shall hold my breath until the judge sentences him," said Elizabeth. "I would not put it past him to slip out of jail by convincing one of the guards of something."

"For now all is resolved," said Mr Darcy. "Will you be staying for dinner?"

"Not tonight," said Elizabeth, rising. "I believe that Mary has either sent a note to our aunt and uncle and we'll go in their carriage, or your father has talked her into taking your carriage so that clothes for Kitty can be brought back."

"Shall we find out what's been decided in the library?" asked Mr Darcy, offering Elizabeth his arm. She took it and they walked out of the room, discussing libraries.

"Well, I'll be damned," said Colonel Fitzwilliam to his teacup. "Darcy's in love. Who'd have thought."


	15. Jane's Wedding

Chapter Fifteen – Jane's Wedding

"There's a letter for you from Jane, Lizzie," said Mr Gardiner from the head of the breakfast table. He passed the envelope to his niece and resumed sorting the post. Elizabeth took the letter and opened it, curious as to why Jane was writing to her so soon after their last letter. She read through it twice before looking up at her contentedly eating family. Mrs Gardiner noticed Elizabeth's excitement.

"Elizabeth?" said Mrs Gardiner. "What's the news?"

"The best news," said Elizabeth. "Mr Bingley has asked Jane for a courtship, and she has agreed to it, provided that it is a long one. Mama is apparently not pleased about the length of the courtship, but Jane would rather know her husband when they marry than find out how ill suited they are once the vows have been said."

"That is wise, and a good idea considering the marriage your parents had," said Mrs Gardiner. "From what I saw, they were incompatible and unable to overcome their differences."

"That is one way of looking at it," said Mary.

"May I also write to Jane?" asked Kitty. "Do you think she would want to hear from me?"

"I rather think she would," said Elizabeth. "She has mentioned in her letters that she feels that she has been a neglectful sister. From that, I think that she wants to know all of us, but isn't sure how to start meeting us without Mama's interference to stop her."

"Then I shall send her a few sketches with my note," said Kitty. Mary sighed.

"I ought to write as well," said Mary, "though I am not sure what to say. Perhaps I could send her a small song I wrote?"

"Those are all good ideas," said Mr Gardiner. "I am pleased to see you trying to reach out to your sister."

"I am equally pleased to see that she has tried to form a friendship with you, Elizabeth," said Mrs Gardiner. "It seems to be doing both of you some good."

"It has, I think," said Elizabeth. "Jane has also requested that I come to Meryton and help her plan her wedding. I think I'm to restrain Mama and Miss Bingley."

"Well, you are no longer in mourning, and we can make do without you for a bit," said Mrs Gardiner. "When does she want you to arrive?"

"She wants a September wedding," said Elizabeth. "Thus, she wants me there by the first week of August."

"That is only a week away!" said Kitty. "Elizabeth, we can't pull together a gift and a dress for you in that short amount of time."

"I have one form my aborted Season that I might be able to rework and wear," said Elizabeth. "It's not one that I've worn before, so it should be alright. I had hoped that it would be my wedding gown, but that is not to be."

"Are you sure, Lizzie?" asked Mr Gardiner worriedly. "You don't need to give up that dream."

"It is fine," said Elizabeth. "I am not the same as when I had the gown made, and as such, it no longer fits as the marker for the beginning of a new life. And it will not do to outshine Jane, or look like I'm trying to, on her wedding day."

"Indeed not," said Mrs Gardiner. "So perhaps one of your gowns that is less fine from that Season, reworked so that it is in a fashionable mode, would be a better choice."

"You are right, Aunt Gardiner," said Elizabeth. "That would be better. I shall have to start work on it immediately after I write to Jane to tell her that I'll come. And I shall have to find a place to stay. Aunt and Uncle Phillips have been very kind to us, but I do not think that having an extra person there is going to help."

"Very likely not," said Mr Gardiner. "My brother Phillips very likely has his hands full with an excited Fanny and his own wife. You shall have to stay at the inn."

Elizabeth wrote back to Jane to say that she was coming, and would be staying at the inn so as to not inconvenience them. This prompted a letter from Mrs Phillips informing her to not be silly, and that she would in fact be staying with them. The letter went on to say that Mr Phillips was being most unreasonable with Mrs Bennet. Jane's reply was softer, but still asserted that Elizabeth would stay with them, please, and that Jane would be very glad to see her. So, in the first week of August, Elizabeth went to Meryton for Jane's wedding.

Upon her arrival, Elizabeth was greeted by a disgruntled Mrs Bennet, a nervous Mrs Phillips, a relieved Jane, and a sulking Lydia. Mr Phillips handed her down from the carriage, and her face lit up as she took in the town she grew up in and the family she had left behind. Jane stepped forward when their mother and aunt stood and stared, hands outstretched and a small, gentle smile on her face.

"Lizzie, it's so good to see you!" said Jane.

"It's good to see you as well," said Elizabeth, "and Meryton too. Everything and nothing has changed since I last saw it. It's hard to believe that was only a year and a half ago."

"Meryton is as Meryton does," said Mr Phillips. "Good to have you here, Elizabeth."

"Yes, welcome," said Mrs Phillips, rushing forward. She threw her arms around her niece as Jane stepped out of the way of her aunt's enthusiasm. "I'm so glad to have you here, Lizzie, we need the help, and Jane is just so stressed with all of the planning that needs to happen in the next two weeks. Come in and get freshened up, my dear, and then we'll show you all the plans that we've made so far."

That sounds wonderful," said Elizabeth. "Jane, would you come and help me with my dress?"

"There is no need for that," said Mrs Bennet.

"I shall be happy to help you Lizzie," said Jane. Elizabeth smiled at her and followed Mr and Mrs Phillips and their mother into the house.

Once in the room they would share and Elizabeth had used the chamber pot, she sat down on the bed and invited Jane to do the same. Jane sat down and began twisting a handkerchief so tightly Elizabeth thought it would tear. She placed a hand over her sister's.

"Tell me everything, Jane," said Elizabeth softly.

"I was so happy when Mr Bingley – his name is Charles – proposed in the garden here," said Jane. "I want to marry him. He's a wonderful, lively person who takes the time to listen to my thoughts and offer me new ideas. I love him, Lizzie, I do."

"But?"

"But Caroline and Mama are taking over the planning and I fear that it shan't be my wedding, but a wedding I'm in," said Jane. "I need help. I cannot stand up to Mama, I never could, and Caroline has strong opinions about her brother's wedding and how it should go, and I can't stand up to her either. I hate confrontation, and I hate making people upset. I feel that no one supports me in the planning. Please, Lizzie, I just need you to be here so that there is someone in my corner."

"I will remind them as much as I can that this is your wedding and that your preferences should be respected," said Elizabeth. "If necessary, I will help you place the orders so that you do get what you want. But you must speak up for yourself, or everyone will walk all over you. I do not think you can live a happy life that way."

"You are right," said Jane with a sigh. She pulled herself up a little straighter and put the handkerchief away. "Let's get you into something clean and fix your hair."

A half hour later, Elizabeth was clean and dressed and up to date on the wedding plans. Jane had also briefed her on what it was that she wanted for her wedding, and Elizabeth had given her the letters that Mary and Kitty had written for her. Jane had teared up when she read the notes and had praised the drawing Kitty had sent of the Gardiner family after supper. She had looked over the music Mary had composed and decided that she would play it, and since she suspected that she would like it, she would propose that it be the music that she walked down the aisle to. She had then hugged Elizabeth tightly, and led her downstairs.

"How was your journey, Lizzie?" asked Mrs Phillips as she poured tea for the five ladies.

"It was good," said Elizabeth. "The roads were clear, and the weather has been good this past week, so we made good time. We shall have to send Lucy home soon though, as Aunt Gardiner is hosting a dinner the day after tomorrow and will need help with that."

"Why ever did you not stay for the dinner?" asked Mrs Bennet. "There were likely eligible gentlemen there, and you could have snagged one of them."

"I believe that they are all older men and their wives attending," said Elizabeth. "And I feel I do not need to rush into marriage. It is the most important decision of a woman's life, and hurrying it will only end in unhappiness."

"In your last letter, you mentioned the balls and assemblies you have been to in the last few weeks," said Jane. "Four, if I remember correctly. Have you had to buy new dancing slippers?"

"I have," said Elizabeth. "I do not think I have sat out a dance since my return to society."

"Well then," said Mrs Bennet, feathers ruffled. "Why are you not courting? Are there no men interested in you?"

"There are a few," said Elizabeth. "But as I said, I shall not be rushed into a courtship and then a marriage that will ultimately leave me unsatisfied and unhappy with my life."

"Hmph," said Mrs Bennet. "When I was your age, I was married."

"I learn from your example," said Elizabeth, "and refuse to marry where I am not equal in my husband's eyes."

"While we are on the subject, shall we go over plans for Jane's wedding?" said Mrs Phillips in an attempt to head off a scene between Mrs Bennet and Elizabeth.

"That would be lovely," said Elizabeth. "Jane, what has been planned so far?"

"Well," said Mrs Bennet, "Thus far we have looked at –"

"I believe I asked Jane," said Elizabeth.

"Well, we have nothing solidly planned yet," said Jane a little sheepishly. "The church is booked, and the invitations sent, but I have yet to select a pattern for my dress, choose the flowers and select the menu for the breakfast. I believe that I have the music I want for the procession down the aisle, though I shall need to play it to make sure. The decorations also need to be chosen, and everything needs to be ordered."

"But we agreed on the flowers yesterday," protested Mrs Bennet.

"You did decide on your favourites for the bouquet, Fanny," said Mrs Phillips. "But I do not recall Jane agreeing to them."

"I do not recall a conversation in which flowers were even mentioned," said Jane.

"Miss Bingley and I discussed it, and we think that orchids are the best choice," said Mrs Bennet with finality.

"Miss Bingley is not the bride," said Elizabeth. "Shall we start with the dress?"

Mrs Bennet glowered at her as Mrs Phillips brought out the book of wedding plans and spread the patterns over the low table in the center of the room. Elizabeth looked them over and then looked at Jane. Jane had pulled two patterns from her pocket and was clutching them, biting her lips and staring at the table with something like dread.

"Jane?" said Elizabeth. "Are there any on the table you would like?"

"They are all lovely," said Jane, "but none of them suit me. They are too much for me, and do not show who I am. I feel that they would overwhelm me."

"What do you propose then?" asked Mrs Bennet, a touch sharper than she usually was with her eldest daughter. Jane flinched a little, then pulled herself back up.

"I was thinking one of these two," said Jane, placing the patterns over the others. For each of them, the silhouette was softer, the lines cleaner, and the cut more modest than the other suggested ones. One had beading across the bodice, and the other had thick ribbon trim.

"But they are so plain!" exclaimed Mrs Bennet. "Really, you should have the most beautiful dress in the county."

"They do speak to Jane's personality," said Mrs Phillips thoughtfully. "I like the one with beading."

"What colour were you thinking?" asked Elizabeth.

"A pale blue," said Jane. "I thought it might bring out my eyes, and that the colour would suit the cut of the fabric. I will admit, I also prefer the one with the beading a little bit."

Seeing that her daughters and sister were united in their preference, Mrs Bennet conceded. "I suppose it is tolerable. Royal blue would be better, I think."

"Then I suppose that it has been decided," said Elizabeth. "The beaded dress in blue it is. Perhaps tomorrow we can go and choose the fabric and order the gown."

"I would like that, Lizzie," said Jane.

The rest of the week went much the same. Miss Bingley came to the house every day, and every suggestion of Jane's was criticized as unfashionable or dull. Elizabeth would counter that should Miss Bingley ever have the good fortune to marry, that she could do as she pleased with her selections. Mrs Bennet continued to suggest expensive and overblown decorations and flowers, Miss Bingley would put in the fashionable thing to do, and Elizabeth or eventually Mrs Phillips would ask Jane what she liked or what she wanted. There were things that Jane agreed to, such as yellow marigold and blue hyacinth for the bouquet, and things she vehemently disagreed with, such as cloth of gold upholstery on the chairs and silver vases on the tables, opting for glass with Canterbury bells in them. Elizabeth backed every one of Jane's decisions, earning her scornful remarks from Miss Bingley.

One day, Elizabeth pulled Caroline aside for a walk in the garden. Once they were out of earshot of the house, Elizabeth stopped them and turned to Miss Bingley.

"Miss Bingley, as we are soon to be sisters, I feel it is imperative that I tell you this," said Elizabeth.

"And what might that be?" asked Miss Bingley, almost bored.

"In the spirit of sisterly affection, and since Jane is your friend, you must respect her and her decisions," said Elizabeth. "It will be her say that matters in household matters once she has married your brother, not yours. And I fear that if you continue your dismissal of Jane, you will find yourself packed off to some other relative whom you either detest for not helping you social climb or detest for reining in your behaviour."

"You do not have that power," said Miss Bingley.

"I do not," agreed Elizabeth. "But Mr Bingley does, and he is not as blind as you might like him to be. I do not care what you say to me, as I have been called names before by better people, but you will respect Jane and her position as your sister and as the head of the household."

"Charles is the head of the household," said Miss Bingley.

"Mr Bingley is the head of the family," corrected Elizabeth. "Jane, as Mrs Bingley, will be the one running the household and as such is the head of it. One day, perhaps, you will appreciate that."

"Perhaps I shall, when I am Mrs Darcy," said Miss Bingley. "Until then, I shall run Jane, just as I run Charles and Louisa, and there is very little you can do about it."

They returned to the house, and joined the assembled party for tea. Mr Bingley and young Mr Darcy were in attendance, and Jane showed Mr Bingley what the different aspects of the wedding would look like, to his exclamations of pleasure at the selections. Miss Bingley engaged Mr Darcy in conversation about Town and fashions. Elizabeth joined Mrs Phillips in embroidering handkerchiefs with Jane's new initials, ignoring her mother as she went on about how little lace there was on the gowns Jane had ordered for everyday wear.

Once Jane and Mr Bingley had gone over the decisions that had been made to date, they rejoined the general conversation. They were in time for Lydia exclaiming that one day, she would be prettier than Jane and marry a much wealthier man and that her sister would be sorry then, though for what Lydia never said; Mrs Bennet exclaiming over Elizabeth's lack of suitors and the suggestion that she was undesirable: and Miss Bingley commenting on the uncouthness of the Bennets and their lack of connections and importance in society in a manner she thought was subtle.

"Caroline!" said Mr Bingley. "It is supremely rude of you to insult our hosts. It is unbecoming and, as we are most of us to be family soon – sorry Darce – we must treat each other with respect. You must stop this behaviour immediately."

"I only speak the truth," said Miss Bingley.

"Then perhaps you should look at what you believe to be true," said Mr Bingley. "I find that the truths people speak are often reflections of themselves. And what you are showing is very ugly."

"How dare you!"

"No Caroline, how dare you. I have let your behaviour slide when I should not have. You have been to finishing school, and you know how to behave as a lady should. What you are saying is unacceptable."

Miss Bingley rounded on Elizabeth. "You got him to say these things to me."

"I warned you that your brother is not as blind as you would like him to be," said Elizabeth. "When would I have had such a conversation? Why would I have such a conversation? It is not for me to tell Mr Bingley how to run his family."

Miss Bingley looked around the room and, finding no friendly faces, stormed out of the house. She stood ramrod straight as she waited for the carriage to be brought around. When it did not appear, she set off in a cloud of dust and feathered hat.

"Fanny," said Mr Phillips in a much quieter voice than Mr Bingley had used, "disparaging your daughters is cruel. I have told you this many times, and you will not listen. I am withholding your pin money for the next six months, and forbidding Mrs Phillips from giving you any of hers. I recommend that you take the time to speak to one of our clergymen, and look at your own behaviour as though another was directing it at you.

"As for you, Lydia," continued Mr Phillips, "there will be no pin money, no sweets and no time spent in company. You will apply yourself to lessons and learning for the next six months, and I will have a weekly discussion with you about what you have learned. I am not Mr Bennet; my health is good and I will not allow your bad behaviour to continue. Fanny, you will stick to this, or I shall extend the period without pin money by a month each time it happens. Lydia needs discipline and firm parenting."

"You are not her parent," said Mrs Bennet.

"I am her guardian," said Mr Phillips. "And legally, they are very similar."

He then turned to their remaining guests. "I am very sorry that you had to see this. My only regret is that I haven't done it sooner. I made allowances for grief, but it is past time that I do what Mr Bennet asked of me. I must take care of them and set the girls in my care on the path of a fulfilling life."

"Likewise, I am sorry that you had to witness the scene between myself and my sister," said Mr Bingley. "I too should have done more for her by doing more for myself. I especially apologize to you, Darcy, for not discouraging her attentions as strongly as I ought. I am also sorry, Miss Elizabeth, that Caroline was so rude to you. I will be a better brother to her in the future. Cruelty is not going to help her, nor is an inflated sense of self."

"You are correct," said Mr Darcy. "Miss Bingley treats others as though they do not matter. I know that I am guilty of doing the same thing. I have had to teach myself that everyone is deserving of respect."

"I am going to see if lunch is ready yet," said Mrs Bennet abruptly. "Come, Lydia. Your uncle will insist on being unfair to you and to me as well, and he shall not have the pleasure of our company." And she swept out of the room, her hands fisted in her skirt, with Lydia scampering after her.

There was silence in the room for a moment. Jane looked pleadingly at Elizabeth, and Elizabeth lifted her eyebrows at her and nodded in encouragement. Jane took a breath and changed the subject. "How are you finding Netherfield, now that you have been there for a while?"

"It is a lovely property, with much potential for beauty," said Mr Darcy. "It needs a great deal of care, but with a firm hand and a steady will, it should prosper."

"I remember Lizzie taking Mary and Kitty to the gardens and playing hide and seek," said Mrs Phillips with a chortle. "Mr Bennet would be so worried, and then they would come home with their hair all tangled, mud on their dresses and the happiest smiles on their faces."

"The property has stood abandoned for years," said Elizabeth. "I will admit, those afternoons were very happy. And once Papa had scolded us appropriately for making him worry, he would have us tell him about what plants we had seen and then at our next lesson use the botany book to tell us what they were, what they could be used for, and what season they sprouted in. And then he would have us look them up in the guide to the meanings of flowers and see what they meant."

"Papa was thorough when he taught," said Jane. "He liked to let us put the pieces together for ourselves and then discuss the answers we arrived at with us. Papa was very much the sort of teacher who preferred to teach how to think rather than what to think."

"He was," said Elizabeth. "He tried to teach me to ride once or twice. I think he stopped when I broke my arm falling off."

"He taught me enough that I could ride around the area if I wanted," said Jane. "But I remember your fall, Lizzie. It was very bad."

"Would you want to resume learning, if you could?" asked Mr Darcy.

"I think I would have to go fairly slowly with it," said Elizabeth.

"You are too much of a free spirit to be confined to carriages for the rest of your life," said Mr Phillips. "Perhaps you should learn."

"Perhaps I will, should I ever marry," said Elizabeth. "Aunt Gardiner needs my help with the children for now."

They spoke for a few more minutes, and Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy left shortly after that. Lunch was eaten in uncomfortable silence, as the frosty glares Mrs Bennet aimed at her brother-in-law and pointed ignoring of her sister and younger daughter made beginning any conversation difficult. After lunch, Mrs Bennet retired to her room with a headache and Lydia was sent to Mr Phillips' office with a slate and chalk and her uncle's determination. Jane, Elizabeth and Mrs Phillips returned to wedding planning.

The Gardiners arrived the day before the wedding, Mary, Kitty and Georgiana accompanying them. Jane squeezed her sisters' hands as she greeted them, thanking them for their help with her wedding. Mary blushed when Jane told her that the song she had written would be the processional for the ceremony. Kitty squealed when Jane shared that her sketch had been the inspiration for the bouquet. Georgiana was introduced to Jane, and gleefully reunited with Elizabeth.

"How are you holding up, Phillips?" asked Mr Gardiner as he shook his brother-in-law's hand.

"Quite well," said Mr Phillips. "I have had to put my foot down with Fanny and Lydia, but planning for the wedding has gone a lot quieter since Lizzie arrived."

"Good," said Mr Gardiner. "I'm glad that it's all come together."

"And Mr Bingley approves of everything chosen," gushed Mrs Phillips. "Jane was showing him little things, you know, like the menu and the decorations and he seemed thrilled. Of course, he hasn't seen the dress, but it's so elegant and so very Jane that it will be impossible for him to look away!"

"Perhaps you could all join us for dinner, and after I could show you the wedding book," suggested Jane.

"That sounds like a lovely idea," said Mrs Gardiner. "Though it will mean that Miss Georgiana will have to be surprised tomorrow with everyone else."

"I am staying at Netherfield with my brother," said Georgiana sadly. She brightened. "I do like nice surprises though."

"And it will be a wonderful surprise," said Elizabeth.

"Did you listen to Miss Bingley at all?" asked Georgiana.

"I found that her taste and mine are very different," said Jane, "and as such, I left her to plan her own wedding and went on to plan mine. Lizzie was very helpful. I could not have done it without her."

"I am sure you could have," said Elizabeth. "It would simply have taken longer and quite a bit of anger for it to be done."

"Well then," said Mary. "I look forward to having this wedding as an example."

"That's right," said Mrs Phillips. "Your coming out is coming up soon. Have you found a sponsor? I'm told that having one is necessary."

Mrs Kingsley agreed to help me as well," said Mary. "And I have heard a bit about Lizzie's ball. May I ask about your ball tonight, Jane?"

"I would like to tell you about it," said Jane. "It was a night to remember."

"My dear, we should bring Miss Georgiana to her brother and get ourselves settled at the inn," said Mrs Gardiner. "There will be time over dinner to discuss the wedding and other news."

"Of course," said Mr Gardiner. "We wanted to let you know that we had arrived safely in Meryton."

"And we are pleased to receive you, even if you are not staying in our home," said Mrs Phillips. "I regret that ours is not a sizable home, but then, we had no children of our own. It is nice to be surrounded by family, and for such a happy event."

The Gardiners and their charges got back into the carriage and left, returning later for dinner, where Mrs Bennet pulled Mrs Gardiner into a conversation about a woman's education and Mr Gardiner pulled the Phillipses into conversation about international trade and the way it was impacting laws. The Bennet sisters in the middle of the table discussed Jane's wedding plans, and the two elder sisters' coming out balls. After dinner, Jane was able to show her family the completed wedding book, with fabric samples, dress patterns, pressed flowers and invitation copies all carefully arranged to allow for easy reference. Kitty and Mary ooohed and ahhhed over each page, asking questions and getting direction from their sister. Their mother also looked at the completed book. Tears filled her eyes.

"Oh my Jane!" sighed Mrs Bennet. "It seems just yesterday that I first held you in my arms. And now here you are, about to be married! A mother's only dream is for her children to marry well."

"Please, I beg you, Fanny," said Mr Phillips. "This week is for Jane, and the importance of her decision and future happiness. Not your dreams."

"I am glad that you are happy for me, Mama," said Jane. "I could not have imagined a man so good as Mr Bingley, and yet I am going to marry him."

"And the two of you will do wonderfully together," said Elizabeth. "I have seen the way you look at each other."

"I can only revel in my luck," said Jane. "A good man with a good heart loves me. He can support me and the family we will have together. What more could I possibly want?"

After the guests had left, Elizabeth and Jane went to bed, leaving the older people to talk in the parlour. They brushed each other's hair and sat on the bed and talked. Elizabeth explained her understanding of the wedding night to Jane, based on farm animals and a similar conversation with Mrs Gardiner, who had explained to Elizabeth, Mary and Kitty what was at risk and what might happen to them if they allowed themselves to be alone with a man they had no connection to. Jane was embarrassed and a bit shocked, but was thankful that she would have a better understanding than she was sure Mama would give her. Though she was excited, Jane went easily to sleep, and Elizabeth soon followed.

The wedding morning was cool and clear. Mrs Gardiner, Mary and Kitty arrived early to help dress Jane, and the married women took Jane aside for a discussion of what to expect that night from her husband. Elizabeth made sure that her sisters were all ready and presentable, fighting Lydia tooth and nail into the pretty dress and bonnet that had been purchased for her. The younger Bennet women, Mrs Gardiner and Mrs Phillips all went ahead of the bridal party to the church. Jane, Elizabeth, Mr Phillips and Mr Gardiner followed behind.

The ceremony was perfect, exactly as Jane had described it. Mr Bingley glowed with happiness as Jane's hands were pressed into his by Mr Phillips. Young Mr Darcy allowed his features to soften into a smile as he took in first his friend's happiness, then the radiance of the bride, then the joy of the bride's sister. His eyes met Elizabeth's and she pinked and smiled at him before turning her attention to the ceremony. As the couple said their vows, Mrs Bennet and Miss Bingley burst into tears, and Georgiana and Kitty exchanged excited, teary glances across the aisle. Mary squeezed her aunts' hands with tears in her own eyes. The register was signed and Mr and Mrs Charles Bingley proceeded out of the church and to the wedding breakfast at Netherfield Park, with Elizabeth and Mr Darcy, and their friends and family, following behind them.


	16. Courting Elizabeth

Chapter Sixteen – Courting Elizabeth

Elizabeth sat gratefully at the side of the ballroom, her aching feet glad of the reprieve from dancing. Her cheeks were flushed with exercise and laughter, as Mr Worthington had a sense of humour and talent for making her see things a little differently. They had agreed to be friends, as he had a tendre for another lady who he was hoping would be at tonight's ball, and Elizabeth had a suspicion that the lady in question, a Miss Bernhard, was drawn to Mr Worthington as well. She had suggested the supper set to him, as that would give them time together, and Mr Worthington had been happy to go and make the suggestion to Miss Bernhard. Elizabeth was content to sit and watch the room for a few minutes between sets and let her feet rest while she waited for her next partner.

She was looking forward to writing to Jane about it. Her sister had just returned from honeymooning in Ireland before Christmas, and hadn't come to Town yet, as the Bingleys were sorting out dynamics and wanted to present themselves well to Society. Still, this was a smaller private ball, hosted by the family of one of Elizabeth's friends, and Elizabeth rather thought that Jane would feel more comfortable here than in a grand assembly's crush.

The click of heels caught her attention and she looked up to find Mr Darcy standing next to her. She offered him a warm smile. She had not seen him since Jane's wedding several months before. To her surprise, though his face seemed controlled, his eyes were warm as he looked at her.

"Good evening, Miss Bennet," said Mr Darcy. "I trust that you are well, and that the flush in your cheeks is not a sign that you are becoming ill?"

"Very well, indeed, sir," said Elizabeth. "I should not like to become ill, and it is ill advised to have less than a good evening when there is dancing, good food and good company."

"Dancing and food there are plenty of," said Mr Darcy, "and good company as well, between the sets. I will admit, I still find myself tongue tied when dancing with strangers."

"Yet you are willing to dance with them anyway," said Elizabeth.

"True," said Mr Darcy. "May I have the pleasure of your company for a set, if you have one free?"

"I do," said Elizabeth, looking over her dance card. "I have the supper set free, or the last set. Which would you prefer?"

"May I have the supper set?" asked Mr Darcy.

"I should like that very much," said Elizabeth. "I always find that suppers taste better when I am with someone I like. And I do enjoy conversing with you."

"I am always impressed with how much you know or are interested in," said Mr Darcy. "I enjoy our conversations, for I always feel as though I am sharing something rather than simply giving it."

The first strains of the next set rippled through the ballroom, and Elizabeth's next partner came and led her to the floor, while Mr Darcy went in search of his own partner for the dance. They danced, each stealing glances at the other from across the ballroom, and made conversation with their respective partners as best they could. By the time the supper set arrived, both were trying to hide their eagerness to dance with the other.

"I see that Mr Worthington and Miss Bernhard have finally found a dance together," observed Mr Darcy as they stepped into line with the other dancers.

"They did indeed," said Elizabeth. "I went to school with Miss Bernhard for a few years. She's lovely, and I recall her taking her studies as seriously as her social expectations."

"Oh?"

"Miss Bernhard was always good about answering questions that younger girls had about assignments or point of etiquette," explained Elizabeth. "I believe her specialty was mathematics and bookkeeping."

"How fortunate for Mr Worthington, if they do decide they suit," said Mr Darcy. "I have heard that the Worthingtons need help with their books."

"I rather think that Miss Bernhard would relish the challenge," laughed Elizabeth. She glanced over at the oblivious couple in question. "They do complement one another, do they not?"

"They do indeed," said Mr Darcy. "In interest and in temperament. Much like your sister and Bingley. He wrote about his adventures in Ireland."

"Jane wrote to me of them as well," said Elizabeth. "I am happy for her. She married a man she likes for himself, and he appears to like her for the same."

"I agree," said Mr Darcy. They separated briefly in the dance and came back together. "Georgiana has asked me to invite you and the Gardiners for supper next week. I shall have her write a formal request, but I thought that I should ask on her behalf."

"I should like that, though I will have to consult with my aunt and uncle," said Elizabeth. "We are going to see _Othello_ next week, I know, but I am unsure as to what else."

"What did you think of it when you read it, as I am sure you have?" asked Mr Darcy.

"I thought it was rather sad," said Elizabeth. "Had Othello simply communicated with Desdemona, perhaps tragedy could have been averted altogether. Iago is the worst villain, in that he did his best to ruin what could have been a very happy thing."

"I pity Iago," said Mr Darcy. "Jealousy and his own unhappiness drove him to do harm to his commander and to a woman who did him no harm, and indeed did no one any harm. Emilia is just as much victim as Desdemona, as she too is at the mercy of her husband."

"Iago is, I think, neither shepherd nor jailor, but a puppeteer who jerks her strings without finesse," said Elizabeth. "What he uses her for is blatantly obvious, as he tells her what he is doing, yet she can say nothing because he is her husband."

"Had Emilia turned on her husband, she could have saved her mistress and commander," said Mr Darcy.

"Yet Emilia would have been branded a traitor, as to betray one's husband is considered the same as betraying the Crown," Elizabeth pointed out.

Mr Darcy sighed. "I suppose there is no solution that is without complications. Tell me what you think of the production; I saw it last week and want to know what you think of the staging."

"I'm not sure that I know enough about theatre to comment," mused Elizabeth. "But I can give my impressions."

When the dance was done, they went through to the supper tables, where they were joined by Mr Worthington and Miss Bernhard, as well as a few other of Elizabeth's friends and Mr Darcy's acquaintances. The table spent the next hour talking and sharing humorous anecdotes from travels and excursions. If Mr Darcy spent most of the hour gazing at Elizabeth as she spoke or listened, none commented. Likewise, if Elizabeth glanced at Mr Darcy a little too frequently for it to be inconspicuous, it went unspoken of.

The next day over breakfast, Elizabeth and Mrs Gardiner received an invitation from Darcy House for dinner the following Thursday, if that was convenient. As their theatre tickets were for Wednesday night, and they had no other plans for Thursday, Elizabeth sent back a note accepting the invitation, and it was added to the social calendar.

The following day, Elizabeth was reading quietly in the parlour, where the light was good and the seats warm, when Mr Darcy was announced. He was shown in, and the maid discretely situated herself between the doorway and the large plant to the right of it. Mr Darcy And Elizabeth bowed to each other, and Elizabeth sat, having put her book aside to give her visitor her undivided attention. He sat, stood, sat again, and then began pacing.

"Mr Darcy, what is on your mind?" asked Elizabeth. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, perfectly good health," said Mr Darcy automatically. He seemed to realize what he had said and shook himself. "I am sorry, I know that isn't what you asked. I just – I had thought that I had marshalled my thoughts on the way here and have immediately forgotten how to say what I want to say."

"I can wait for you," said Elizabeth.

Mr Darcy turned and looked at her, his expression vulnerable. "Miss Bennet, I – yes, I know how to say it now.

"Miss Bennet, you must allow me to tell you how much I ardently admire and love you. I am a proud man, and not always wise, and rather stubborn, but I am loyal to those I trust. I know my faults, and I suspect that you do as well. I would like your permission to court you formally. You are too generous to trifle with me; if your feelings are against me, tell me so at once."

Elizabeth's face softened. "I cannot fix upon the hour, or the spot, or the look or the words, which laid the foundation. I love you. I was in the middle before I knew I had begun."

"Then, your answer?" asked Mr Darcy, with tentative hope.

"I agree to a courtship with you," said Elizabeth, a smile blossoming on her lips. "I have met you as a friend, and fallen in love. I wish to meet you as a partner and look to a possible future."

Mr Darcy's stoic mask fell and radiant happiness lit up his features. He knelt before her and took her hands, kissing her fingers lightly. "I have not felt this happy in a very long time. I am so very happy, Miss Bennet."

"As am I," said Elizabeth. "Shall we share our happiness with my aunt and uncle?"

Mr Darcy rose and helped Elizabeth to her feet. "Yes, I think they are the next best people to tell."

Mr and Mrs Gardiner were just coming down the stairs, on their way out to browse a bookstore and pick up an order from the cobbler respectively, when they met the happy couple in the front hall. Elizabeth was glowing with happiness, and a quiet sort of contentment rolled off of Mr Darcy.

"What's happened?" asked Mrs Gardiner.

"I have asked Miss Bennet if I may formally court her," said Mr Darcy.

"And I said yes," said Elizabeth. "With your permission."

"From what I know of you, Mr Darcy, you are a thoughtful and careful man," said Mr Gardiner. "I believe that I can trust you with my niece."

"He means to say that you have his permission," said Mrs Gardiner. "Congratulations, Lizzie."

"I am looking forward to spending more time with Mr Darcy," said Elizabeth happily. "I feel most happy when I'm with him."

"That is auspicious," said Mr Darcy. "I find myself feeling much the same."

"I am pleased for both of you," said Mr Gardiner. "Would you care to accompany us? I am headed to the bookstore. Perhaps you can find a book to read together?"

"I would, but I must decline for today," said Mr Darcy. "My aunt Matlock is expecting me for luncheon, and I do not dare miss it."

"She seemed lovely when I met her," said Elizabeth, "though I did get the impression that she was not a lady to disappoint."

"Quite right," said Mr Darcy. He bowed over Elizabeth's hand and brushed a kiss over her knuckles. Bowing to Mr and Mrs Gardiner, he said, "I wish you a good day, and success in your endeavors. I very much look forward to hearing about whichever book takes Miss Bennet's fancy."

"It is always a game of chance, guessing what Elizabeth will like," said Mr Gardiner. "I wish you a good day as well, and good luck with your aunt."

With a final bow, Mr Darcy left. The Gardiners turned to their niece. Elizabeth smiled. "I am the luckiest woman in the world."

"How so?" asked Mr Gardiner.

"I love a wonderful man," said Elizabeth, "And he loves me back."

"Every woman in love thinks that she is the luckiest when loved in return," said Mrs Gardiner. "That does not make it untrue."

Elizabeth and Mr Gardiner laughed. They left the house and turned onto the street that would take them to the cobbler and bookstore for their respective purchases. The rest of the week would pass with very little teasing of Elizabeth, and a silent agreement that Mrs Bennet didn't need to know until something more concrete was announced. The night at the theatre went with speculation on the ride there, attentiveness during the play itself, and excited discussion on the way back. Once home, Elizabeth fell asleep and dreamed of a different life where she had not realized her Mr Darcy's love until it was almost too late, and nearly lost him forever because she was too proud to forgive. What needed forgiveness was unclear to her, only that her failure to give it would leave her a very unhappy woman.

Thankfully, her dreams were just that, and when she rose Thursday morning, she went about her day with an extra lightness to her. Her young cousins were most affected by her good mood, and were both more attentive to their lessons and more excited about their walk to the park early that afternoon. Once they had been turned over to the maid for the night, Mrs Gardiner helped Elizabeth with her hair and told her stories of her own courtship with Mr Gardiner.

"He was always telling me about the little interesting things that came in from the ships," laughed Mrs Gardiner. "Always trying to woo me with stories of far away places, when I just wanted to know the man. And then I realized that this was his way of showing me who he was."

"He still does that, does he not?" said Elizabeth.

"He does," said Mrs Gardiner warmly. "And it brings us closer together every time I ask about his day and he has the chance to tell me a bit about the world beyond England."

"I suppose that is what I love about Mr Darcy," mused Elizabeth. "We can talk about faraway places that we both visit through books, and explore how the other sees what we've read."

"I would not be surprised if this is a short courtship, Elizabeth," said Mrs Gardiner. She smoothed an errant curl into place. "Not when you went into this knowing each other so well."

"I need to know if we work as a couple, know that all will be well if I accept him," said Elizabeth. "I feel that it will be good, but I worry. I was not raised to be an icon of society."

"You will do well," Mrs Gardiner assured her. "Your courage rises at every attempt to intimidate you."

"Papa used to tell me that."

"And he was right."

As they descended the stairs, Elizabeth felt the first flutterings of nerves under her ribs. She smiled with genuine thanks as Mr Gardiner handed her into the carriage, and she sat next to her aunt, fidgeting with the cuff of her glove. Mrs Gardiner laid a hand on her niece's, and Elizabeth took a deep breath and went still. The carriage crossed the city to the court that the Darcys lived on, and they were greeted with warmth by their hosts. Mr Darcy immediately took Elizabeth's arm and led her to the parlour behind her aunt and uncle and his father. In the sitting room were several members of the extended Darcy-Fitzwilliam family.

Elizabeth curtsied politely to Lord and Lady Matlock, and Mr and Mrs Kingsley. She was introduced to Lady Cecelia Fitzwilliam, who was a year younger than Elizabeth, and Miss Eleanor Kingsley, who had just debuted a few weeks previous. Elizabeth had been unable to go to her ball due to Mrs Gardiner having been very unwell, but she was pleased to finally meet Miss Kingsley. The young women sat together and began to speak politely to one another, testing the waters, though Elizabeth felt that they were all inclined to like one another. The matrons sat nearby and chatted about the merits of having a garden, and different flowers that grew well in different climates. The men congregated on the other side of the room, discussing Napoleon and the effects of the war on trade and the expense that came with importing goods from the Continent.

Not too long after the Gardiner's party arrived, the Viscount and Lady Ashworth were shown in, along with the Viscount's brother Colonel Fitzwilliam. The three newcomers quickly brought the various conversations together, and Elizabeth found herself seated between Lady Cecelia and the younger Mr Darcy while the Colonel and Lady Matlock alternately narrated a visit the week prior from a young lady who thought that she would like to marry into the Fitzwilliam family through the Colonel, and was willing to try anything to achieve her goal. Elizabeth listened with a mixture of delight at the absurdity and horror at the impudence and audacity the lady in question had.

"So finally," said Colonel Fitzwilliam dramatically, "I stood firm and attempted to reason with her."

"By which he means he pulled the bell for the servants with increasing desperation," drawled Lady Matlock.

"And failing this, through no fault of my own, I tricked her into leaving the house of her own volition," continued the Colonel as though his mother hadn't spoken.

"She chose to leave, yes," agreed Lady Matlock, "after I arrived and informed her that her carriage was ready for her, and that she was barred from my house henceforth."

"So what you mean to say, Richard," said the Viscount, "is that you hid behind Mother's skirts and she sallied into battle for your virtue."

"I would not put it like that," protested the Colonel. "Really, it was a very well-timed flanking maneuver."

"Well done, Mother," cheered Lady Cecelia. "I have never liked Miss Daphne Hollock and am quite pleased that she can no longer enter the house."

"Cecelia, you two were such good friends when you were young," smirked Lord Matlock.

"We were neighbours, and as such spent afternoons at the park together so that our governesses could chat, as they were friends," said Lady Cecelia. "And Daphne was nice enough until she decided that my brothers were animals she could hunt and keep as trophies."

"Cecelia," chided Lady Matlock with a tiny smile. "That was unkind."

"But fair," said Miss Kingsley. "I went to school with her, and she was always in love with one man or another from church, dependant on the cut of their coat."

"Then she is what my youngest sister will be like when she is grown up," mused Elizabeth. "I ought to meet Miss Hollock so I can be prepared."

"Lydia has time to change," Mrs Gardiner. "She is only eleven."

"Eleven and difficult," said Mr Gardiner. "Nonetheless, I have faith in my brother Phillips and his renewed determination to see Lydia on a good path."

"I hope so as well," said Mrs Kingsley. "A woman's reputation is precious and not easily repaired once damage has been done to it."

"I have felt that perhaps men should feel the same weight," said Mr Kingsley. "Seeing my wife and my daughter bear what society demands has convinced me that if men were to share in the harsh strictures that society sets, they would not behave so badly."

"Perhaps there is too much leniency," agreed Mr Darcy. "I cannot be but proud of the young men in this room. I have not heard ill of any of you, and cannot fathom bad behaviour from any of you."

"I will admit to having my wild years," said the Viscount. "I have not always been a good man. But I had an encounter with a man of God, and it opened my eyes to the pain I was inflicting on those I loved and who loved me. And then I met Tiffany, and was in a better place to appreciate her."

"You met a few other women a bit before me," said Lady Ashworth, amused. "But I am lucky that none of them were quite right for you."

"That we should all be so lucky in our spouses," said Mr Gardiner, "and appreciate them and all they do for us."

Elizabeth looked up slightly from Lady Ashworth to where young Mr Darcy was standing and caught his eye. His face softened slightly, and a smile touched his eyes. Elizabeth knew that her face was similarly soft. A moment later, she realized that the room had gone very quiet.

"Nephew," said Lord Matlock. "Is there something you wished to share with the family?"

Young Mr Darcy's head snapped to his uncle. "There is, in fact, something. Miss Bennet has agreed to let me formally court her."

"Wonderful!" said Colonel Fitzwilliam. "I thought that might be how things turned out."

"Richard, don't pressure them," scolded his mother. "Fitzwilliam, I am very happy for you."

"As am I," said Lord Matlock. "I have known Miss Bennet to be thoughtful and witty, and I feel that the two of you will find that you are very happy together."

"Georgiana will be thrilled," said Lady Cecelia. "I know I am thrilled."

"I think I may speak for my family when I say that I am pleased for you both," said Mrs Kingsley. "I have a special pride in Miss Bennet, and I am pleased that I had the privilege of introducing her to society."

"And I am grateful for your guidance," said Elizabeth.

"I am grateful that you insisted I ask her to dance," said young Mr Darcy. "I would not be so happy as I am now if you had not."

"Dinner is served," announced Thompson the butler from the doorway. The party rose and went to the dining room, Elizabeth sitting next to her Mr Darcy and across from the Kingsleys. Dinner was a delight, as conversation flowed around delicious food and good company. The Gardiner's party went home quite late having thoroughly enjoyed themselves.

Several weeks passed, with Elizabeth and Mr Darcy going out to the museum and the art gallery, or for walks in the park, always chaperoned by a few of his cousins or her aunt. They had known they were compatible, but the extent of their compatibility came to their notice as they discussed the art and history that they learned about on their excursions.

On a Thursday afternoon, Mr Darcy came to call. He was expected, and Elizabeth greeted him warmly. A light blush coloured his cheeks for a moment. They spoke for a few moments before Mr Darcy began, once again to pace anxiously.

"Is something the matter?" asked Elizabeth worriedly.

"No, no, nothing is wrong," said Mr Darcy. "But there is a matter that, I think, I must discuss with you."

"What is it?"

"Miss Bennet, three weeks ago I professed that I admired and loved you," began Mr Darcy. "I did not know then the depths that I would come to feel for you. I have come to love and admire you for your curiosity and wit, your grace and your intelligence, far more than I ever thought possible. I must ask, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife? Will you marry me?"

Elizabeth allowed a warm bright smile to blossom on her face. "It would be an honour and my pleasure to be your wife. Yes, Mr Darcy, I will marry you."


	17. Lizzie Getting Married

Chapter Seventeen – Lizzie Getting Married

"Oh Lizzie, this is so exciting," said Amelia Beauchamp, nee Campbell, as she squeezed Elizabeth's hands. "Finally, you've found someone worthy of your heart."

"I'm excited," admitted Elizabeth. She smiled at her friend and the sun streaming through the parlour window lit her face. "There's so much to do in terms of preparing, and then there's what my life will become once I'm married."

"Marriage is a big step," agreed Amelia. She let go of Elizabeth's hands and picked up her tea cup. "Your view of yourself will change in the first few months of your marriage. I know mine did, and I rather thought that I knew as much of myself as I could know."

"You have always been so confident, so aware of yourself," said Elizabeth.

"Family scandals will do that to a person," said Amelia. She took a sip of her tea. "Knowing yourself helps in holding your head up in public. You know who you are and no one can take that from you."

"Did you ever think that you'd get married?" asked Elizabeth.

"Not really," said Amelia. "I assumed that I would become a governess for life and raise other people's children. I rather thought that I would never find a man who could interest me for more than fifteen minutes at a ball or party because I am picky about those I associate with, as you well know."

"I count it a miracle that we became such good friends that first year of school," said Elizabeth. "I am very lucky that you decided that I would do as a friend."

"And I am lucky as well," said Amelia. "Especially since I get to watch you become an icon of society, and still call you a friend. How does your father in law see the match?"

"He was very quiet after the announcement," said Elizabeth thoughtfully. "He congratulated us, yes, but there was something… detached about it, I suppose. Like there was more he wanted to say."

"Well, whatever it is, I hope it comes out before the wedding," said Amelia frankly. "My mother in law never said that she disapproved of me until after the honeymoon, and only approved of me when Henry was born. Having your in laws disapprove for a long time is a recipe for unhappiness."

"I don't think that he disapproves," said Elizabeth. "Not exactly, anyway. I can't quite put my finger on what it is."

"The senior Mr Darcy seems like the kind of man who will come to a point quickly when he's doing business," said Amelia, "and the marriage of a child is one of the most serious businesses there is."

"That is very true," agreed Elizabeth, taking another sip of tea. "Mama was very much serious about getting my elder sister married."

"I remember that year," said Amelia. "We were very young then, weren't we."

"We were," said Elizabeth. "And soon it will be Mary's turn to enter society."

"I am glad that she's doing well," said Amelia. "And equally glad that you will not be alone for the rest of your life. You are too alive to sit, forgotten, on the shelf."

"Thank you," said Elizabeth, touched. Amelia rose, and Elizabeth rose with her. "I'm glad that you came by today. I'm meant to go and look at dress patterns the day after tomorrow. If you are available, I would be honoured if you could come."

"I have no head for fashion," protested Amelia. She relented, "Nonetheless, I will come. I'll meet you here around eleven or so, then?"

"Yes, eleven would be good," said Elizabeth. "Thank you again." She squeezed her friend's hands. "I shall see you then."

"Indeed you shall," said Amelia. "Come by and see Henry sometime. He's teething, I'll warn you, but he always seems pleased to see you."

"I'll come by next week," said Elizabeth. The two women curtsied to each other and Elizabeth walked Amelia to the door. "Take care."

"And you," said Amelia. With a parting hand squeeze, she descended the stairs and into her carriage, which had been waiting for her. Elizabeth returned to the parlour and finished her cup of tea before turning to the writing desk and beginning a letter to Kitty. Mary's letter for the week was finished and there was a half-finished letter for Jane upstairs that she didn't quite want to finish just yet. She was part of the way through describing the flowers blooming in the park when there was a knock on the door.

"Mr George Darcy to see you, Miss," said the housemaid.

Elizabeth stood. "Mr Darcy, good afternoon."

"Good afternoon," said Mr Darcy. He crossed the room and stood before the fireplace, gazing at the portrait of the newly married Gardiners. "I hope that I find you well, Miss Bennet."

"You do," said Elizabeth, a feeling of dread growing in her stomach. "I hope that your health is also good."

"I am well," Mr Darcy assured her, "as are Fitzwilliam and Georgiana. That is not why I am here."

"It is very rare that you come to call," agreed Elizabeth. "I cannot think what would bring you here today."

"Yet I feel you must know," said Mr Darcy. He turned from the fireplace to face her. "I do not fully approve of your match with Fitzwilliam."

"I had thought that you might be unhappy," said Elizabeth. "But I am puzzled. You could have spoken at the announcement and ended the whole attachment."

"I did not because I wished to marshall my thoughts," said Mr Darcy, "and here they are. You have been educated to be a teacher, a mentor to children and caretaker. While you have been schooled in manners, you do not have the innate knowledge of the uppermost echelons of society to navigate them well. I fear that my son will lose friends because you might unintentionally offend them. I fear that you will alienate important friends from the extended family just by being part of it. You were not born to be a wealthy man's wife."

"I may not have been born to it, but I will learn it," said Elizabeth. "I used to run Longbourne, for the most part alone, when I was a girl. I have asked Mrs Kingsley and Lady Matlock to teach me the little things that I might not know, and they have agreed to teach me. If I am educated to be a caretaker, then let me care for the people of Pemberley. If I am a teacher and mentor to children, then let me be a good mother to my own children."

"You do not have the backbone to deal with society matrons," said Mr Darcy.

"Yet my courage rises at every attempt to intimidate me," countered Elizabeth.

Mr Darcy sighed. "What would it cost me to get you to break this engagement?"

"There is no amount," said Elizabeth. "I love the shy man who is willing to try new things when given good reasons to. I love the man who cares for his sister and his mother's memory, who treasures the family he has and who I feel so safe with. I love my Fitzwilliam Darcy, the man who will care for Pemberley as carefully as he cares for his friends and family, who has a good heart and a structured mind. You cannot pay me to leave him. I will not go."

"I see," said Mr Darcy. He looked at her over the top of his glasses. "You love my son."

"I do."

"I thought you might," said Mr Darcy. "Love him for himself, I mean."

"There is no one else," said Elizabeth quietly. "No one better."

Mr Darcy nodded. "Very good answer, Miss Bennet. I will admit that I had my concerns, but I would have had concerns no matter whom my son married. I married Lady Anne and it was a good match on paper and in practice. Anne and I agreed that we wished the same for our children. I cannot be faulted for wishing to test you and your mettle, as I need to know that you will not simply leave Fitzwilliam to the wolves."

"I see, said Elizabeth. "I want to marry the man, not the estate or the pocketbook. He's a good man, and that is all I have ever wanted in a husband."

"Then I think that the two of you will be happy together, said Mr Darcy with a smile. "I have seen the way you look at each other and the pleasure you take in being in one another's company. I give my blessing to this match."

"Thank you," said Elizabeth.

"Now then," said Mr Darcy, "what have you planned so far?"

Elizabeth filled him in on the few details that she had made firm decisions on, and Mr Darcy nodded his approval at her choices. They chatted briefly, and after a few minutes Mr Darcy called for his carriage and left. Elizabeth sat back at the desk, slightly bewildered, and finished her letter to Kitty. She sealed it and took it to the front hall to be posted in the morning, then went upstairs to retrieve Mary's letter and the half-written letter to Jane. She left Mary's letter on top of Kitty's and sat down to write to Jane.

The next day, a herd of carriages descended on Gracechurch Street, and various notable persons made their way into the Gardiner's home. Lady Matlock and Lady Cecelia arrived with Viscountess Ashworth first, followed by Mrs Kingsley and Miss Kingsley, who insisted that Elizabeth call her Eleanor. Last to arrive were unexpectedly Lady Catherine and Anne de Bourgh. Cecelia rushed to greet her aunt and cousin, as Anne had been ill recently and wasn't said to be seeing anyone. Lady Matlock greeted her sister in law and her niece with equal warmth, the pleasure of the family being all together permeating the room. Mrs Kingsley and Eleanor also greeted the de Bourghs, and were received with cool grace.

Once Mrs Gardiner joined them, the women began to plan the wedding. They elected to begin by organizing which churches would be appropriate and which one Elizabeth preferred and which one would be the most socially beneficial. They then went on to scouring the Bible for appropriate passages to read out during the service. Elizabeth selected two, with another four possibilities, all to be run by Fitzwilliam. They paused for a pot of tea and the young ladies moved to one end of the room while the matrons moved to the other to give their charges space.

"I must say, I am rather pleased with the way that the wedding is shaping up so far," said Elizabeth. "Though only two things have been chosen, I feel that this planning process is going to be pleasant."

"It will until Mama decided that she hates something," said Anne. "And then, well, I'm sure that you'll be able to convince her. Mama likes you."

"My mama would tell you if you were committing a faux pas," Eleanor reassured her. "And so would Lady Matlock."

"Mama would," agreed Cecelia. "Speaking of Mamas, what about yours? When will she get here to help plan?"

"My mother and I are not on good terms," said Elizabeth quietly. "I have no doubt that she will come and either try to make my decisions for me, or try to curry favour with all of you and your mamas. Besides, she has Lydia to spoil and Jane to pester for grandchildren."

"Elizabeth, I am so sorry," said Cecelia. "I didn't realize."

"We Bennet girls have done our best to hide how strongly Mother favours some of us and not others," said Elizabeth.

"Kitty said something about that," said Anne. "How is Kitty doing? Exams are happening around now, are they not?"

"They are indeed," said Elizabeth. "She's trying hard and studying as best she can. Her friends take their education seriously, and understand it is a privilege."

"A privilege to be educated like a man," said Eleanor. "I would have loved to go to university, but women are not permitted to do so, and those who wish to go are strongly dissuaded by their families." She sounded bitter.

"I have found that being offered an education is a privilege," said Anne. "It should be our right to be taught, but nonetheless, having knowledge and being able to do things is so very important, and I have found that there are many families who do not teach their girls at all, except for deportment and dancing."

"Do you mean the Murphy sisters?" asked Cecelia. Anne nodded. "Their father is terrible about having only one son and four daughters. He pays them no mind and has commanded that they be kept stupid as men do not want a smart woman."

"Elizabeth is living proof that notion is not the case," said Anne. "I rather think that her intelligence is what has brought her and Fitzwilliam closer together."

"I think so too," said Elizabeth.

"Young ladies, we must continue," said Lady Catherine. "We must make many more decisions today if this wedding is to come together in time."

The weeks passed in a flurry of social calls, most to plan the wedding but some to meet family and for Elizabeth to see her fiancé. Her time with Fitzwilliam was when she relaxed, talking about other things and getting a glimpse of what evenings with her husband might look like. By the time Mrs Bennet, Lydia and the Bingleys, including Caroline, arrived, nearly everything was planned and paid for. Elizabeth brought her dress home the day after her mother arrived, and Mrs Bennet immediately began to criticize it.

"Mother," said Elizabeth, and Mrs Bennet started, "it is my dress. I like it and it flatters me. Should you marry again, you may choose your own dress and its decoration."

"I am trying to help you," said Mrs Bennet.

"I know," said Elizabeth. She carried her dress in its box upstairs and hung it up, locking her cupboard door. She endured her mother's attempts to change her wedding to suit her own tastes, and Mrs Gardiner took charge of steering her away from wedding related topics. Jane threw herself into helping Elizabeth with last minute details and updated her on how her own marriage was going.

Three days before the wedding, young Mr Darcy came to call and his expression was unusually grave. As they all settled into the parlour he said, "I have some bad news."

"The church hasn't been double booked, has it?" said Mrs Bennet fretfully.

"No," said Mr Darcy. "Wickham has escaped from prison. His trial was postponed several months ago, and when he was being transferred to a prison in Scotland he and a few others escaped. My cousin is having the army look into it. But we should all be wary. Wickham has a habit of turning up unexpectedly."

"We'll be cautious," Mrs Gardiner assured him. "He has already tried to harm one of our girls, and we will not allow it to continue."

"Two," said Mr Darcy. He bowed. "I am sorry to have to cut my visit short, but I have been assured that if I am not home when my friends and cousins come for me, they will look for me in the most embarrassing manner possible."

"Indeed we shall," said Mr Bingley. "I'll come with you. We haven't seen each other in a few days. And before that, several months."

And with that the two young men left. Elizabeth and the Gardiners were troubled by the news, and Elizabeth was the first to recover. Miss Bingley and Mrs Bennet were confused by the news, and Mrs Bennet was the first to inquire about Wickham.

"He is a rogue and a scoundrel," said Elizabeth with some anger. "He preys on young girls and their delicate natures, and harms everyone he comes across. He attacked Mary several years ago."

"I never heard anything of this," said Mrs Bennet, astounded. "He attacked Mary?"

"He did," confirmed Mr Gardiner. "It was handled and we did not want to worry you unnecessarily."

"My nerves!" said Mrs Bennet. "My daughter, put in harms way and no one thought to tell me!"

"Here are your salts," said Jane, handing them to her mother. "Is he really so bad as all that?"

"He is," said Elizabeth.

"Then I shall be on my guard, and make sure that no harm comes to our family, as best I can," said Jane. "When are Mary and Kitty coming?"

"Tonight," said Elizabeth. "They'll be staying in my room until the wedding."

Mary and Kitty arrived just before dinner and afterwards the four present sisters and Miss Bingley all sat together and talked until the candles were burning fairly low. The next day Mr and Mrs Phillips arrived with Lydia, and the entire family was invited to dinner at Lord Henry's house. It was a stuffy dinner, but Elizabeth and Jane did their best to keep conversation around the table going smoothly, helped somewhat by Miss Bingley. They all retired as soon as they returned home in anticipation for the wedding in the morning.

Elizabeth woke with the sun and sat at her dressing table, thinking about her expectations and what others expected of her in her new role. She thought about love and what it meant to her, about commitment and how her determination and courage could help her be committed through everything that would come. She opened her Bible to Psalms and read the first passage that caught her eye: _"_ _Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in you. Show me the way I should go, for to you I entrust my life."_

"For to you I entrust my life," murmured Elizabeth. She had known from the time that she was young that a man in a woman's life was either her shepherd or her jailor. To her father, her life had been entrusted by God, and to her husband she would entrust her life with God's approval. He would shepherd her, protecting her from wolves and leading her towards the good, providing safety and a kind of freedom, one that would let her be herself with him rather than have to pretend. He had told her so many times that he liked that she was opinionated and educated, that he could have real conversations with her or just sit quietly together. That was a gift that she knew not many women received.

"Elizabeth?" said Mary sleepily from the bed. "Is it time to get up?"

"I think so," said Elizabeth as a knock came at the door. "Come in, I'm awake."

The door opened, and Jane, Mrs Gardiner and Mrs Bennet all entered. Mary shook Kitty awake and Kitty sleepily got herself out of bed. The two younger girls got dressed behind one of the screens, pulling laces and pinning hair quickly for just awake people, while Jane helped Mrs Bennet with getting Elizabeth's dress out of the closet and Mrs Gardiner brushed her hair. As they unwrapped it, Jane gasped, while Mrs Bennet tutted.

"It needs more lace," said Mrs Bennet. "You are somehow marrying a rich man, Lizzie. You need to look the part of a rich man's wife."

"Not today, Fanny," said Mrs Gardiner sharply. "And not in my house."

"The gown is beautiful, Lizzie," said Jane, happy tears in her eyes. "You are going to be the most beautiful bride this city has seen in a long time."

"Perhaps not quite that beautiful," said Elizabeth. "But I love my wedding dress. It's so comfortable, and it suits me."

"Let's get you into it," said Mrs Gardiner. "You really should be at the church on time."

Mary and Kitty brought over the appropriate underthings from their box in the closet, and Jane found the stockings and shoes. The five women tucked and pinned and tied Elizabeth into her dress and put up her hair. As they were putting the finishing touches on her curls, Mrs Bennet shooed Mary and Kitty out of the room, sending them to prepare the men of the house for Elizabeth's descent.

"Now then, Elizabeth," began Mrs Bennet, "there is something you must know about marriage."

"Yes, Mama?" said Elizabeth.

"A wife's duties to her husband," said Mrs Bennet.

"I've told her about that already," said Mrs Gardiner. "I felt that it was better to know what they risked with men than to be caught unaware. And lying there and thinking of other things does not make the experience more pleasant!"

"It is not meant to be pleasant," retorted Mrs Bennet. "Not for women. It is for the procreation of children. A man may derive some pleasure from it, I do not know, but not women."

"I heartily disagree," said Mrs Gardiner. "When you participate and are fully with your husband, it can be a bonding experience. It can bring you closer together, and not just with the promise of a child. Though your attitude certainly explains the distance between you and Mr Bennet."

"How dare you!"

"I have found that when I respond to Charles," here Jane blushed, "it is much nicer and I feel his love for me. It becomes not a duty, but a joy. I hope you can find that too, Lizzie."

"I hope so too," said Elizabeth. "I see how much closer you and Charles have been since your marriage. It hope to find a similar closeness with Fitzwilliam."

"I think you shall," said Mrs Gardiner. She smiled warmly at her niece and re-pinned a curl carefully. She took the bonnet from Mrs Bennet and placed it on Elizabeth's head. Elizabeth looked at herself in the mirror and tied the bonnet on. She stood and accepted the bouquet of flowers that Jane held for her. The women filed out of the room, Mrs Bennet first and Elizabeth last. Mr Gardiner and Mr Bingley were at the bottom of the stairs with the young Gardiner children. The two men took their wives' arms with happy smiles before turning their attention to Elizabeth. Her light yellow gown was embroidered with small yellow and white flowers, and was trimmed with a small amount of creamy lace and ribbon. Her yellow and white bouquet hid her hands and small flowers pinned to her bonnet added a light fragrance to her hair. The two men gasped.

"Darcy's going to be stunned," said Bingley with sincerity.

"You look wonderful, Lizzie," said Mr Gardiner. "Now then, let's get you to the church on time."

They took two carriages to the church. The Bingleys, Mrs Bennet, Mary and Kitty took the first carriage, and Mr and Mrs Gardiner rode with Elizabeth in the second. They were quiet for most of the way to the church.

"It will be different without you, Lizzie," said Mrs Gardiner. "We shall adjust, of course, but it will be very different without you in the house."

"It will be very different living at Darcy House and Pemberley," said Elizabeth. "Being married is a big change."

"Many things will change for you," said Mr Gardiner, "just as they will for him. You will be alright, because you are brave and loving."

They pulled up to the front of the church, where Amelia and Jane were waiting just outside the doors. Mr Gardiner helped his wife down first, and Mrs Gardiner went into the church to prepare the organist and the rector. Mr Gardiner then helped Elizabeth down and Amelia gasped.

"Oh Elizabeth, you look wonderful," said Amelia.

"Thank you," said Elizabeth. She took Mr Gardiner's arm and walked up the stairs to the church door. Amelia and Jane opened the doors and led them inside. Organ music swelled and the audience rose.

Fitzwilliam – Elizabeth's Fitzwilliam – was, in fact stunned. He did not fumble his words, but his eyes were a little wide and his grip on her hands was so gentle is was as though he thought he might break her. The service was read, the vows were said, the register signed, and Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam walked out of the church as Mr and Mrs Darcy.


	18. Mary's Ball

Chapter Eighteen – Mary's Ball

"Is it normal to be quite this nervous?" asked Mary as Elizabeth put the last touches on her hair. Jane nodded from beside the bed.

"How do you feel?" asked Jane.

"Overdressed," said Mary. "But I do love this dress, and you have worked miracles as always with my hair, Lizzie."

"You could do your hair like this yourself," Elizabeth reminded her. "You just prefer less intricate styles. Much like your dress. This is not a bad thing."

"I know that," said Mary. "I feel like myself. I feared that I would not when I was dressed for a ball. I am prepared to be happy, no matter who I meet tonight."

"That's the spirit," said Elizabeth with a little laugh.

"It is almost time to go to the receiving line downstairs," said Jane. Mary stood and Jane smoothed a few little crinkles from Mary's sleeve and squeezed her hands. "We should go downstairs and find our husbands, Elizabeth."

"Do you need a moment alone, Mary?" asked Elizabeth.

"I think I'll be fine," said Mary. She lifted her head slightly. "I believe I'm ready to meet society, and that society will be generally unaffected by me."

"Then you are as prepared as we can make you," Elizabeth said. She led the way out of the room and turned to link arms with both her sisters. The three women walked down to the hall, where Charles and Fitzwilliam waited for their wives with the Kingsleys and Mr Darcy. Charles beamed at Jane and kissed her lightly before tucking her hand into his elbow. Fitzwilliam's face softened only enough that someone who knew him very well could tell, and he kissed Elizabeth's fingers, staring intently into her eyes.

"Perhaps leave your displays of affection away from the eyes of society," said Mr Darcy dryly. "Lady Catherine might have an apoplexy."

"She is going to have to get used to it," said Fitzwilliam. "Anne has her eye on a young man, and he seems to be interested. Yes, he's a second son and she is an heiress, but what does that matter if they are otherwise a good match, in taste and temperament?"

"Hmm," said Mr Darcy. "We shall keep an eye and an ear out for this young man's reputation. We'll discuss it later."

"Of course," said Fitzwilliam. They took their positions as a line and Thompson announced the first arrivals to Darcy House. Fitzwilliam and Charles took turns introducing Mary to people as her brothers. Many of their friends and acquaintences had been invited, as had Mary's school friends who had already come out and some of Elizabeth's friends. Lady Catherine and Anne arrived and were greeted happily, as were the Matlocks and Ashworths. Colonel Fitzwilliam sent his regrets, as he was needed at the front. The spectre of Napoleon dampened the festive mood for a moment before the next arrivals were announced.

When all but the latecomers had arrived, Mr Gardiner, who had been amongst the first arrivals, led Mary into the ballroom and to the floor to open the ball. The musicians began to play, and other pairs joined them on the floor, including the Bingleys and the Darcys. Mr Darcy brought Lady Catherine to join, while Anne's partner was a handsome man in a plum coat. Mary made note and resolved to be introduced to him again before the night's end, as Anne looked pleased to be dancing with him.

When the first set was over, Anne brought her partner over to where Mary was talking to Charles and Jane. Charles shook his hand warmly. "Fanshaw, I didn't think you were going to make it tonight."

"Neither did I," said Fanshaw. "However, the patient I was most concerned for has decided to begin to get well, and I am pleased with his progress."

"Mary," said Charles, "this is my friend Dr James Fanshaw. He tends to take on unusual cases, but is, to my knowledge, generally successful at saving his patients."

"He is also a pianist," said Anne. "When he was apprenticed to Dr Coleman, he recommended my piano teacher."

"I remember how thrilled you were when you began to learn more advanced pieces," said Dr Fanshaw. "You were very adamant that you show everyone."

"Learning is important to me," said Anne. Music began to play again, and Fitzwilliam offered Mary his arm.

"I believe that I have the second set," said Fitzwilliam.

"You do," said Mary. She smiled shyly at Dr Fanshaw and returned to the floor. Mr Gardiner danced with Jane and Charles danced with Anne, leaving Dr Fanshaw to find his next partner, while Mr Darcy danced with Elizabeth.

Mary danced with a few of the men in the room and talked to a good many of them, most of them leaving good impressions. She made note of which ones she didn't particularly feel warm towards, and which ones frightened her, and resolved to tell Elizabeth and Mrs Kingsley tomorrow. She knew to be careful and trust her instincts when it came to men.

She was resting between sets, sitting on the sides briefly by herself, when Dr Fanshaw approached her. She looked up at him and offered a little smile of welcome. "How are you enjoying yourself this evening, doctor?"

"I do not often get to attend balls or assemblies," said Dr Fanshaw, "but I am very glad that I could make it tonight. I hadn't yet met either Mrs Darcy or Mrs Bingley, and I'm happy for my friends in that they are both wonderful women. Of course, as their sister your opinion might be different."

"They are indeed my sisters," said Mary. "And I have never not had them in my life."

"I suppose not," said Dr Fanshaw. A flicker of nervousness crossed his face. "I was wondering, Miss Bennet, if you would like to dance with me? If you have a set open?"

"I would indeed like to dance with you," said Mary. "I have the next free – oh, but it's the supper set. Will that be alright?"

"I would like that," said Dr Fanshaw. "Anne mentioned that you were fond of the piano?"

"Quite right," said Mary. "I very much enjoy playing and discovering new pieces or new composers."

They were called to the next set and took their places on the floor. They danced for a few minutes without speaking, and Mary bit her lip as she tried to think of a topic of conversation. At last she decided to broach that as a topic.

"I apologise for my silence, said Mary. "I cannot think of a single thing to say that might be of interest."

"Oh thank goodness," said Dr Fanshaw with obvious relief. "I thought that you were waiting for me to have something clever to say and I was drawing a blank."

"No," said Mary. "Elizabeth is a bit like that, though she is more likely to tease and begin conversation that way than to be cruel about it. Have you had time to see the new opera that is playing?"

"What, _Abu Hassan_?" said Dr Fanshaw. "I haven't had an evening to do so. I am told that it is very well done, quite comedic."

"I found some sheet music for it the other day when I was out," said Mary. "It has its challenges."

"I imagine it would," said Dr Fanshaw. They continued discussing different pieces that they were learning, and as the set ended and they made their way to the table, the topic turning to favourite pieces that they had learned or had heard. Jane and Charles joined them at their table, along with several other people whose names Mary could not remember, but she would learn them later. The rest of the table joined the discussion of music, eagerly chiming in pieces that they enjoyed and humming bars of the composition when they couldn't remember what it was called. This very quickly became a game of seeing whether it would be Mary or Dr Fanshaw who knew the piece. Supper ended with laughter and an eager return to music and dancing.

Mary danced for the rest of the night and bid farewell to the last of the guests as the sun rose. She staggered upstairs, unused to the late night and not entirely sure that she enjoyed being up quite so late. She had bid Jane and Charles goodnight hours ago, and she knew that Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam were just behind her, giving last instructions to the newly risen housekeeper and head footman, as Thompson had gone to bed with the departure of the last carriage along with the younger footmen. She stepped into her room and shut and locked the door behind her. She needed to sleep, to organise her thoughts about the night.

When she rose in the mid afternoon, she found Elizabeth, Jane and Caroline in the music room. Elizabeth was playing while Jane and Caroline read and embroidered respectively. Caroline sniffed as Mary entered and Elizabeth looked up with a warm smile for her sister. Jane put down her book and rang for a maid. When the maid appeared, Elizabeth ordered food and tea for Mary.

"How did you enjoy your ball?" asked Jane.

"It was pleasant," said Mary. "I am not sure that so much dancing and socializing is for me. Perhaps once in a while, a ball will be a good change of pace. I think I will like soirees and intimate dinners better."

"You will have to meet people before you are invited to such things," said Elizabeth. "But I think that with the connections you have, you'll be invited before many other girls. Having friends is as important as having manners."

"Having friends is the most important part of a woman's life," scoffed Caroline. "Good manners mean nothing if you have nowhere to display them."

"Having friends means nothing if you become an embarrassment to them," said Mary. "I would prefer to know how to behave in company and have my company be desirable than embarrass myself and be the entertainment for an evening."

"Hmph," said Caroline. She put down her sewing and rose. "I have correspondence I need to attend to in my rooms." And with that, she left.

Elizabeth rose from the piano bench and came to sit beside Mary. "What did you really think of the night?"

"It was perfect," said Mary. "Everything I dreamed of. I need to write a note to Mrs Kingsley, thanking her for her assistance. I am grateful to you as well, Lizzie, and to you Jane, for all your support in helping me organize my debut. I maintain that balls might not be for me, but I daresay that I shall continue to cultivate a small circle of dear friends."

"You must do what is right for you," said Jane. "It is the only way to true happiness."

"I see that," said Mary. "I take from your examples that happiness is a series of choices. I shall be very careful about who I choose to be close to me. I would rather have a few who know me well than many who know me not at all."

"Have you met anyone who might prove to be a good friend?" asked Elizabeth.

"Several," said Mary. She listed the people she had met who she felt would prove good friends. She then expressed her discomfort with others, especially the men who had looked her over as though she was a ribbon in the hands of a silly young girl. Elizabeth assured her that she would do everything she could to protect her sister, and that if she ever felt uncomfortable with someone, Mary was to let one of her sisters or brothers know immediately and they would help her. Jane seconded this, adding that if there was anyone particular that she wished to know better, she only needed to ask and they would help with that too.

The women were discussing gardening and how they each wished to design their gardens in their marital homes when Fitzwilliam and Charles returned from the day's business. Each man went to his wife and kissed her, and Mary watched wistfully, wondering if she would ever find a love like her sisters had. She did not speak it aloud, but she prayed that one day she would make herself a match where she could be happy and thrive. As her sisters had shown her, she deserved nothing less than to be cherished by her spouse.


	19. Wickham's Last Stand

Chapter Nineteen – Wickham's Last Stand

Kitty watched as the once familiar streets of Meryton rolled past as the Darcy carriage made its way to Netherfield Hall. Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam were talking about something or other to do with Pemberley and its prospective harvest come fall, and Georgiana was napping on Kitty's shoulder. Kitty didn't want to wake her friend, but they would be at Netherfield soon, and she wanted Georgiana to be awake for that. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, and Georgiana stirred and slowly woke.

"I'm so sorry, Kitty!" said Georgiana. "I didn't mean to fall asleep on you."

"It's alright," said Kitty. "We are nearly there. This is the drive up to the house." Georgiana sat up straight and looked eagerly out the window. They watched the trees pass for a few moments.

"Is this where you were born?" asked Georgiana.

"At Longbourn," said Kitty, "though yes, this is the area. Netherfield and Longbourn are close neighbours. It was abandoned when I was young though, so we children played in its gardens."

"That is very charming," said Georgiana. "Though sad that you did not have neighbours for such a long time."

"It is alright," said Kitty. "We had attentive neighbours in the Lucases and our aunt and uncle Phillips, as well as the Longs, and several other families. And Netherfield has a master and a mistress again, so I'm sure that the neighbourhood is pleased."

"Do you think we'll be invited to Longbourn?" asked Georgiana.

"Mr Collins was very specific about what he thought of the Bennets," said Kitty. "If we are lucky, Mrs Collins will come call. She is Jane's friend."

"It will be good to see Jane and Charles again," agreed Elizabeth, a decision about the harvest finally agreed on. "And Miss Bingley is in residence as well, so we will truly be a merry party."

"Your humour is appreciated, dearest," said Fitzwilliam. "Good humour in the face of her barbs is a great accomplishment."

"She thinks poorly of herself," said Elizabeth, "and thus treats others the way she feels. I think that there is little that can be done for her if she does not wish to change."

"Do you think she will ever find someone who will accept her?" asked Georgiana.

"I hope so, for her sake," sighed Elizabeth.

"Ah, we've arrived," said Fitzwilliam as the carriage passed through the last copse of trees. The house rose at the end of the drive, with newly planted gardens around the front and small topiaries on either side of the door. Jane and Charles were at the front door to greet them.

Fitzwilliam stepped out of the carriage and helped his wife and sisters down. Elizabeth and Jane hugged, and Jane whispered something in Elizabeth's ear. Elizabeth's face lit up and she squeezed Jane's hands in excitement. Charles came over and shook hands with Fitzwilliam, also speaking to him in very low tones. There was another hearty handshake and a clap on the shoulder between the men. Jane rushed over and hugged first Kitty then Georgiana, and ushered them all into the house.

Miss Bingley was waiting for them in the parlour with tea already on the low table in front of her. She rose to greet them, missing Elizabeth in her whirlwind of playing hostess and particularly fussing over Georgiana. Kitty was greeted with some measure of warmth as well, and Miss Bingley settled into the sopha to serve the tea.

"Caroline, should Jane not do that?" said Charles.

"Oh, yes, you're right," said Miss Bingley. "I am so used to being hostess in London, I forgot that this wasn't my home but Jane's."

"I am sure that London society praises you as a most attentive hostess," said Elizabeth.

"I do have a good many friends in London," said Miss Bingley, "so it is only natural that I have them to tea weekly. Friendships amongst women are of the utmost importance."

"Indeed they are," said Jane, passing out cups of poured tea. "Particularly between sisters."

"The bond of sisterhood is one that friendship can only aspire to," agreed Miss Bingley, accepting a cup. "I myself do not know what I would have done growing up without Louisa."

"Nor, I am sure, would we Bennet girls know what to do without one another," said Elizabeth, sipping from her cup of tea. "Strength in numbers and always someone to talk to or to help."

"I'm sure," said Miss Bingley. She turned to Georgiana. "How is your playing? I do recall that you dearly love the pianoforte and spend much of your time with it."

"I think my playing is improving still," said Georgiana. "It certainly has more feeling in it than before, more complex feeling, I mean. Elizabeth has been most helpful in her example of music with great and complex feeling. Kitty has helped as well, encouraging me to try pieces that I might not have considered otherwise."

"How fascinating," said Miss Bingley with a too wide smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Do you play, then, Miss Kitty?"

"Not as well as Georgiana," said Kitty, "but then, my talents lie more in drawing and painting than in music. And so we spend hours each at our own art and come out better friends for it."

"Do you indeed?" said Miss Bingley. She turned to Elizabeth and Jane, who were conversing in low tones to one side of the room. "What is your opinion on the education of women, Miss Eliza?"

Elizabeth looked up from her conversation. "It is of vital importance that a woman expand her mind with reading, sums and art. Otherwise, what would we have to speak of amongst ourselves, let alone with men, who have the privilege of a broader education and more worldly exposure? It is better that a woman be considered too educated than stupid, I think."

"And learning never truly stops," added Fitzwilliam. "I find that Mrs Darcy and I frequently challenge each other's ideas and perspectives, and as such learn more. I too consider an educated woman to be vastly more interesting than a woman who has neglected her mind in favour of her dress."

"I know I am grateful for the encouragement my father and sisters have given me in my education," said Jane. "I hope to encourage any daughters I might have to read and try everything that interests them and some things that do not."

"But we have been neglectful hosts," said Charles. "Your trunks should be taken up to your rooms, and so we shall show you where you will be sleeping and you can freshen up."

"That would be lovely," said Elizabeth. "We will have to chat and catch up, Jane. I am very excited to hear of the changes you plan for Netherfield."

Jane led them up the stairs carefully and into the family wing. Kitty and Georgiana were given rooms across the hall from each other, much to their delight. Somehow, however, Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth were given rooms across the hall and two doors down from each other. Kitty watched anxiously as the footmen in charge of the luggage were summoned.

Upon being asked, one stuttered, "Miss Bingley said to tell you that there had been a change in the rooms, and we were to put Mr Darcy in the green room and Mrs Darcy in the yellow room."

"You were recently hired here, were you not?" said Jane. The footman nodded. "In future, please bear in mind that Miss Bingley is not the mistress here, and that when I change my mind about something, I tell the relevant parties myself."

"Yes Ma'am," said the footman, looking mildly terrified.

"You have been here longer and know better," said Jane, turning to the second footman. "Surely you could have told him about that particular detail."

"She went to the housekeeper and butler Ma'am," said the second footman. "Not much any of us can do when Miss Bingley is that insistent."

"I see," said Jane. "Well, we can rectify this mistake. Please move both of their things into the pink suite, which I am sure was cleaned and prepared as I asked two days ago."

"I believe they were Ma'am," said the second footman. "Elsie and Christine went up just after breakfast to get it done through the back stairs. They were pleased as punch, since the pink suite never gets used and Miss Elizabeth – er Mrs Darcy that is, well she's a favourite as all the Bennet girls are."

"We'll get the things moved," said the first footman. "In the meantime, perhaps they can freshen up in the prepared rooms?"

"That would be lovely, Jane," said Elizabeth. "Do not worry overmuch about it."

Kitty retreated to her room at that point, desperately needing to refresh herself. A maid was hanging up her clothes when she entered, and she quickly retreated into the bathing room to use the chamberpot there. Having taken care of that, she returned to the room to find the maid had two dresses laid out on the bed for her.

"Good afternoon, Miss Katherine," said the maid. "I am Fiona, and I will be serving you while you stay here. If there is anything you might need, please let me know."

"Pleased to meet you," said Kitty. "I suppose I'd appreciate help with getting dressed. I'm not exactly used to servants."

"That's alright, miss," said Fiona. "Mrs Bingley explained to some of us that you might not be, and most of us had a relative working at Longbourn when you were growing up. I'm happy to help."

Fiona helped Kitty out of her dress and stood off to the side while Kitty washed her face, neck and hands in the basin of warm water on the small table by the window. Of the two dresses, Kitty chose the light pink one with off white lace trim. Fiona helped her into it, brushed and restyled her hair, and left with a curtsey, taking the wash water with her.

She met with Georgiana as they were coming out of their rooms, and, giggling, made their way downstairs to the dining room. Jane, Charles and Fitzwilliam were seated at one end of the table talking quietly. Elizabeth sat as a buffer between her husband and Miss Bingley, talking idly about the current fashion trends. Well, Elizabeth was vaguely interested while Miss Bingley was animated and describing a gown that, as Kitty sketched it in her mind from the descriptions, would be ghastly in the colour Miss Bingley wanted. Elizabeth sent her a wry smile as she and Georgiana sat down across from Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth, with Georgiana beside Jane.

"What do you think of my notion for a gown, Miss Kitty?" asked Miss Bingley.

"It sounds most intriguing," said Kitty. "I myself should think that a lighter colour such as pale yellow would suit better, for such a style, but then I know little of the fashionable world as I am not yet out."

Miss Bingley did not quite hide her pursed lips behind a tight smile. "How very true. Miss Darcy, what do you think?"

"I am in agreement with Kitty," said Georgiana. "I know little of fashions as I am not yet out, and therefore have no need of a wardrobe designed to catch eyes."

"I am available to offer any advice you might need when you come out," said Miss Bingley. "Write to me when it's time and I shall happily help you with your ensemble for your first ball."

"Thank you, Miss Bingley," said Georgiana. "Your offer is most kind."

Kitty looked desperately to her older sisters for help, but Jane and Charles were engaged with Fitzwilliam, and Elizabeth was trying not to laugh at Miss Bingley's misguided attempt to befriend Georgiana. As dinner went on, Miss Bingley continued to mostly ignore Kitty and Elizabeth, intrude on the conversation at the other end of the table, and smother Georgiana with attention. It was deeply uncomfortable, and when they separated after dinner, Kitty almost excused herself for bed, but Georgiana sent pleading eyes her way, and Kitty suggested that the younger girls play duets, as they were among family and it was therefore proper.

The girls sang, and Jane and Elizabeth talked about, of all things, hiring staff and things they had learned to ask and listen for. Miss Bingley listened attentively to her sisters before turning her attention to a fashion magazine. The men returned a half hour later and Georgiana and Kitty excused themselves for bed shortly after that. The girls changed into their nightgowns in their own rooms, and Kitty went to Georgiana's so they could braid each other's hair. After another hour of talking quietly and giggling, Kitty returned to her room and went to sleep.

She was awakened by a scream that was suddenly cut off. Kitty flung herself out of bed and threw on her dressing gown. She poked her head into the hallway, to find Georgiana across the hallway doing the same. Charles, in his nightshirt and dressing gown and carrying a fire iron, was charging down the hallway, followed by Fitzwilliam, also with a fire iron, Elizabeth and Jane. Kitty and Georgiana watched as Charles flung open the door to the green room and stepped inside, Fitzwilliam and their wives following close behind him. Kitty and Georgiana left their rooms to see what was happening in the green room.

Looking into the room, they found a dishevelled Miss Bingley sitting on the edge of the bed with Jane and Elizabeth's arms around her, sobbing into a drenched handkerchief. Across the room, a vaguely familiar man was backed up against the fireplace by Charles and Fitzwilliam with fire irons pointed at his throat and lower belly. He was sweating. Georgiana gasped.

"George Wickham!" she whispered to Kitty. "I did not think I would see him again."

"So that is what he looks like," Kitty whispered back.

Wickham was talking. "—invited me to meet with her tonight. I cannot bear to be without her love, as she is so dear to me –"

"Spare us your stories," said Fitzwilliam in a cold, hard voice. "I do not believe for a moment that Miss Bingley invited you to a rendez-vous in a room she thought I was sleeping in, nor that she would invite you anywhere at all. Try the truth, Wickham."

Wickham was silent for a moment. "Come Darcy, is it really so hard to believe that we are in love?"

"Yes," said Fitzwilliam. "I have never known you to love anyone but yourself in your life."

"Caroline?" said Jane gently. "Tell us what happened. I'm sure there is a very good reason you were here in the first place."

Miss Bingley heaved a last sob and attempted to collect herself. "I wanted to have what I have always wished for: the attention of Mr Darcy. And so I came to receive it. I came into the room with my candle and set it down on the nightstand so I could climb into the bed. And then this – this ruffian grabbed my wrists and so I screamed and he slapped me."

"No one told you that we had been moved," said Elizabeth. "And you thought that he was sleeping alone, and so it would be easy to climb into his bed and claim compromise. Doing so would ruin both your reputation and our marriage, and we would all be as unhappy as you. Am I correct?"

"It is unfair," said Miss Bingley. "I deserve to be Mrs Darcy! I deserve to have the status and the power and a handsome husband! And now I am ruined, with nothing to show for it." The last was said bitterly.

"I would say that you deserve each other," said Charles. "Neither happy with what is within possibility and begrudging those who appear to have more."

"What will you do?" asked Wickham. A sly look crossed his face. "As the lady has said, she is ruined. Someone must marry her."

"You are not getting away so easily," snapped Fitzwilliam. "You will tell us what you are doing, uninvited, in this house."

"As I said –"

"The truth, Wickham," said Charles.

"Elizabeth, if you would ring for a servant," said Fitzwilliam. Elizabeth rose and pulled the bell pull. Wickham looked at her with greedy eyes. Fitzwilliam tapped his stomach with the fire iron to get his attention.

"Very well," Wickham sighed. "I came because I need money. We are old friends, Darcy, and surely we can put the misunderstanding with Georgiana behind us. There are a few people to whom I owe debts –"

"You came here," said Darcy disbelievingly, "to ask me for money after you tried to extort my sister for her pin money and seduce my wife's sister to get money from my father."

"That does not somehow ring true," said Charles.

"Who told you that we were here?" asked Elizabeth, stepping forward to stand between the men by the fireplace and the women on the bed. "And who told you which rooms we would be sleeping in?"

"I don't remember her name," said Wickham carelessly. "She was useful, and I compensated her appropriately enough. She gave up quite a bit of information easily, that Mrs Darcy would be in the green room, Mr Darcy would be in the yellow room, Mrs Bingley is pregnant –"

"What?" squeaked Kitty. The six adults turned to the doorway.

"What are you doing here?" asked Jane. "Go back to bed."

"I believe that they have heard enough to warrant them staying," said Elizabeth. "And neither of them are so young anymore. In a few years, they will be out. They deserve to know how to handle different kinds of crises."

"I suppose," said Jane. Attention was returned to Wickham.

"So you were told that Mrs Darcy would be in this room," said Fitzwilliam. "And I suppose you climbed in the window and were going to what? Assault her? Kidnap and ransom her?"

"Kidnap and ransom," gritted out Wickham. "Everyone knows your marriage is a love match, approved by your father and the earl. You would give me any amount of money for her safety."

"Well, this is a comedy of errors," said Charles, "or it would be if things weren't quite so severe. Caroline went to this room to seduce Darcy to ruin his marriage, and Wickham came to this room to kidnap Elizabeth. How were you going to get her out? It is a difficult climb with two hands, let alone with one."

"That aside," said Fitzwilliam, "how would you like to proceed? This is your house, and Miss Bingley is your sister."

"Mr Bingley, is there something the matter?" asked the butler from behind the girls in the doorway. He registered the scene in front of him. "I shall send for the magistrate."

"Please do," said Charles. "I feel Sir William will have something to say about this."

Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam exchanged looks, and she turned and went to the doorway as the butler left at a near run with two footmen in tow. She wrapped an arm around both kitty and Georgiana and gently ushered them out of the room and back down the hall to Kitty's room. She sat them on the bed and let out a long sigh.

"I am sure that you are aware of who that was," said Elizabeth. "And I am sure that you know the circumstances under which he found himself here. We will not speak of this to anyone outside of those here, for your sakes and Miss Bingley's. Goodness knows she has enough to be getting on with at the moment."

"Will Jane talk to her?" asked Kitty.

"She will," said Elizabeth. "As I am the main source of her pain at the moment, it was determined that Jane should be the one to take that task. I will speak with her in the morning, when she has somewhat recovered. This jealousy and pettiness is doing her no good, and it must be resolved."

"Do you think she will change?" asked Georgiana.

"I think that is her prerogative," said Elizabeth. "I can only hope that this incident has frightened her enough that she thinks long and hard about her choices."

"Is Jane really going to have a baby?" asked Kitty.

Elizabeth smiled with real happiness. "She is. Fitzwilliam and I are helping her with important decisions regarding the baby's arrival, which should be around early December, or so the midwife has said. I am happy for her."

"You are not sad that you do not have a child of your own on the way?" asked Georgiana.

"No," said Elizabeth. "That will come in time. I am happy to be learning how my marriage is going to work before we add children to the family. It does me no good to envy Jane, when she needs support from her family now."

A loud commotion came from the hallway and Elizabeth quickly locked the door. They could hear Wickham screaming obscenities and expletives, and the sound of many men moving swiftly and with purpose though the halls. After a while, the noise quieted and the front doors slammed closed. A patterned knock came at the door, and Elizabeth unlocked and opened it.

"Are you all well?" asked Fitzwilliam.

"I think we are all shaken," said Elizabeth. "When will they try him?"

Fitzwilliam shook his head. "There will be no trial. The standing warrant is enough to condemn him. We are adding the charges of breaking and entering, assault and intent to kidnap and extortion to his crimes. Sir William is writing to the nearest executioner to get him here for the morning."

"So Wickham will hang when the executioner arrives," said Elizabeth.

"Yes," said Fitzwilliam. He gathered her in his arms and pressed his forehead to hers. "I am sorry this has happened. I will write to my father once the hanging is done to let him know. What can I do for you tonight?"

"Exactly what you are doing now," said Elizabeth quietly. "I have never been so frightened. Not even when I fell off that horse."

Fitzwilliam looked over at Kitty and Georgiana. "Go back to sleep if you can. Stay together if you wish. Whatever will reassure you that you are safe tonight, please do it or let someone know that it can be provided."

"We will, brother, thank you," said Georgiana. "May I have a hug as well?"

Elizabeth stepped back and opened her arm. "Come here, both of you." Kitty and Georgiana tucked themselves under their respective siblings' arms and began to cry. Elizabeth rubbed a soothing hand over Kitty's back while Fitzwilliam held Georgiana close. The four of them stood there, a circle of familial love, until the girls tears dried. The Darcys bid them goodnight and went back to their own room. Kitty and Georgiana crawled into bed and slept cuddled close together.

They woke late, the sun high in the sky and the clocks reading almost noon. They got out of bed and helped each other dress, both in Kitty's dresses as Georgiana did not want to go back to her room for one. They pinned up each other's hair and went down to find their sisters seated in the family parlour with an untouched tea service in front of them. Miss Bingley's eyes were puffy and her face was splotched with red. Elizabeth looked grim and Jane's eyes were sadder than Kitty had ever seen them.

"Come have tea," said Elizabeth, her voice slightly strangled. "Charles and Fitzwilliam will be back soon, I believe."

"Did they go to the hanging?" asked Georgiana timidly.

"Yes they did," said Elizabeth. "After all the grief Wickham has caused for us, it seemed best that they make doubly sure that he could no longer do anyone harm."

They sat in silence, finally pouring and sipping tea. Kitty wondered if there was anyone in the world who cared for Wickham the way Elizabeth cared for Fitzwilliam. If there was anyone who would miss him once he was gone. If he would be happier once he was dead. She tried to shake of that morbid thought, but it stayed. She asked her question.

"I should hope his goes to a better place," said Jane. "One where he does not feel he needs to leech and lie and steal to be the kind of person he wants."

"He will be happier, or not, once he finds that there is no currency in the afterlife but words and deeds," said Elizabeth. "Our vicar at Pemberly gave a sermon to that effect a few weeks ago, and I am inclined to agree. He will have his second chance, as God gives everyone, and how he spends now til Judgement Day is in his hands and God's."

Miss Bingley set down her cup. "Do you really believe that God gives us all second chances?"

"I do."

"Do you?"

"I do not forget easily, and forgiveness is not something that comes naturally to me," said Elizabeth gently. "But it is easy to lose our way, and therefore people must be forgiving of each other and give one another the chance to do right."

Miss Bingley nodded and went back to her tea, a pensive expression on her face. Jane rubbed a hand over her still flat belly and took a biscuit from the tray. Georgiana stood and went to the piano, opening it and seating herself on the bench. She began to play a song that was slow and sad, but grew hopeful and hesitant, crescendoing to acceptance and blossoming joy. Tears ran down Kitty's face as she recognized the song as one Georgiana and Mary had written together about Mr Bennet and Lady Anne's deaths and their healing from the loss. It always made her cry when they played it. The final notes were fading when Fitzwilliam and Charles came into the room with Mr Phillips and Sir William Lucas.

"It's done," said Fitzwilliam. "George Wickham is dead. God rest his soul."


End file.
